


Beginnings

by orphan_account



Series: Caveman [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Era, Dream Sex, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Frottage, Groping, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Masturbation, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for the midsummer council and Merlin finds himself in the worst situations. New people and experiences test the limits of his control and soon enough is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One: Arrivals

Merlin ran through the halls, paying no attention to the royal furnishings that had struck him speechless nearly a year ago. Nobody looked at him funny, just turned up a corner of their mouth in a knowing half-smile. Merlin was always hurrying somewhere, always late for something due to the loads of time he spent outside.

The manservant burst through his master’s doors and groaned. Arthur was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t have time to sit down and catch his breath. He had to find the king immediately.

With a sigh he turned and ran back the way he came. Maybe Arthur was in the throne room or out training. Sometimes he went to the stables and tended his horse personally.

On his way to the throne room, Merlin looked out the window. The drapes had been changed days before to prepare for the midsummer council. Even now the cooks were down in the kitchen, slaving away over various meats, cheeses, and cakes.

A few knights were lounging around the practice area, leaning on their swords as they talked. Arthur wasn’t among them. That only left two other places.

He kept running and when he turned a corner he bumped into George, one of the housekeeping servants.

“George, hey, have you seen Arthur?” Merlin asked.

“Yes, I believe the king is in the dining hall, seeing to the final preparations for the feast,” George replied.

Merlin picked up on the man’s subtle hint. Of all the lower class people in Camelot, Merlin was the only one that dared to call the king by name. Merlin didn’t do it on purpose; he honestly just forgot.

“So he knows then?”

“Knows what?”

“That the guests from Mercia are arriving.”

“Ah, yes. He knows. He was in his chambers when I told him nearly twenty minutes ago.”

Merlin sighed in exasperation. All that running for nothing.

“I suppose I’m off to the dining hall then. Thanks for telling him, George.”

“Someone had to.”

Merlin tried to ignore the comment and began hurrying towards the dining hall. He nearly tripped down the stairs as he thought angrily back to all the other times he’d been slow or completely failed to serve Arthur. But this time it wasn’t his fault. He wanted to get as much time outside as possible before the guests began arriving because he knew once they did, he’d be too busy. And it certainly didn’t make matters any better that Arthur had instituted a strict No Sex policy for the duration of the week.

Merlin didn’t think that policy would be in effect for long though. Not if he could help it.

He pushed open the dining hall doors and all heads turned to him briefly before returning to their task. Leave it to Merlin to be late.

“Ah, Merlin, there you are.” Arthur called to him from across the room. He motioned for him to come over with a hand.

“Yes, my lord?” Merlin made sure not to leave out the honorific.

Arthur looked around. “I need to speak with you. In private.”

The king jerked his head in a general direction and Merlin followed. The castle was bustling with servants making final preparations before the guests reached the gates and Merlin couldn’t think of a single place that might have a bit of privacy. Arthur settled for an alcove in a less used corridor.

“Is everything alright?” Merlin asked, slipping into Dragon Tongue. “Have I done something wrong? I know I haven’t been the best servant of late but—”

“Nothing’s wrong, Merlin. I just want to make sure you understand something.”

“Yes, what is it?”

“These people, from other kingdoms. They’ll be different. You know how nobles can be to servants. Some are tolerant and friendly, but others are cruel and demanding,” Arthur explained. “Even though you are my personal servant, sometimes you’ll be asked to do things for others. Just do it to the best of your ability, alright?”

“Okay.”

Arthur put his hands on the man’s shoulders. “And whatever happens, try to stay calm,” he said with an even stare.

Merlin nodded. “Okay.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and turned to walk away. Merlin caught his arm.

“But I really wish you’d have more faith in me. I have gotten a lot better at this whole domestication thing, you know.”

“I know, Merlin. But you’ve never had to deal with people like this before. I just thought I ought to warn you is all. I’m trusting you not to lose control.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.”

Arthur looked around, and, finding nobody in sight, kissed Merlin passionately. It had the feel of desperation and pleading and comfort all in one. Merlin attributed it to the fact that Arthur thought it was to be their last for a whole seven days.

There was a cough and they jumped apart. Arthur sighed in relief when he saw it was only Percival.

“My lord, Mercia’s king is approaching the gates,” he informed them.

“Thank you, Percival.” Arthur gave Merlin’s hand one last squeeze. “Remember what I said.” And he took off.

Merlin was left alone with the hulking body that was Sir Percival.

“So what did he say?” The knight asked him.

“Oh, you know.” Merlin waved his hand dismissively. “‘Be on my best behaviour’ and all that. Something about these visitors being different from people in Camelot.”

Percival nodded. “Ah, yes. That would be Wihtred of Kent. His father is the king, Ecgberht of Kent. He has a reputation for being rather...well, he always gets what he wants and what he usually wants is fornication.”

“I see. And you think Wihtred might try to seduce me?”

“You’re not ugly, Merlin. And you’re very amiable. I’m not surprised Arthur is worried about you. But I do wonder why he was so vague as to who you should be wary of.”

Trumpets and horns pierced the quiet of the corridor and Percival started.

“But come, we must not be late!”

Merlin had to run to keep up with the giant’s large strides.

***

It was always weird seeing Arthur in a crown. He’d only seen it a few times, but never had he seen it sit atop Arthur’s head glistening in the sunlight. The blonde’s face was stern and composed as he greeted the Mercian king, lapsing only into a false smile of welcome for a moment.

Merlin would never understand the ways of the court.

“Welcome, Cenred. I am pleased you could come.” Arthur shook the king’s hand.

“Arthur. It has been a while since I’ve seen you. You were but a boy then.”

“And am nearly grown now. It is partly because of my youth that I seek out advice from my respectable neighbours. We have much to discuss,” Arthur said. He stepped to the side and a path cleared for Cenred and his men. “For now, we have food and drink. It should not be long before the rest of the guests arrive.”

***

There were so many people.

Too many people.

Everywhere Merlin went, there were cups to be refilled, dishes to be cleared, spills to be cleaned up, and various ridiculous errands to be run. It was just after dusk when Merlin felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It was like an anvil was sitting  on top of his chest. The stone walls rose to high ceilings, but it felt like he was trapped in a tiny maze. His eyes shifted nervously around the dining hall. He caught sight of the moon rising full in the sky through the window and fought to keep still. Every part of him wanted to jump right out the glass and into the night. He wanted to run into the forest and curl up on a tree branch.

It was stifling. It was hot, loud, and everyone had had too much to drink. He was almost constantly being touched, either on the shoulder, or the arm, or someone bumped into him and he nearly spilled the jug of wine he gripped in his hands.

Merlin tried to focus on Arthur. He stood behind him, ready to fill his cup should it need filling. He remembered not to stare too long at his king, not to give away any hints at a relationship. So finally he just closed his eyes and began to take deep breaths.

“Are you alright, mate?”

There was a hand on his arm and a low rumble escaped Merlin’s throat before he could stop it. Luckily, it was too loud for the owner of said hand to have heard it.

It was a boy, probably about a year or two younger than Merlin by the looks of it. He was a servant as well, and had had a bit to drink if the colour in his cheeks were any indication.

Merlin inhaled deeply and replied, “I’m fine, thanks,” almost too cheerily. “It’s just—it’s a bit loud. I’ve never been around so many people before.”

“Ah. You must be rather new, then. I’m Isaac.” The boy stuck out his hand. Merlin switched the jug of wine to his other hand to shake it.

“Merlin.”

“I take it Camelot doesn’t have a lot of celebrations.”

Merlin shook his head. “No. It’s usually very quiet. We’ve had feasts before when dukes or other such people visit, but never so many people at one time. Sometimes then, I can leave. But Arthur has worked very hard on this and I think he needs all the support he can get.”

Isaac’s eyes widened a bit when Merlin referred to Arthur by name and Merlin mentally kicked himself yet again for forgetting the title. Isaac ignored it though.

“I’m sure things will settle down after the entertainers are through.”

“Entertainers?” Merlin echoed.

“Yes, the—oh look, here they come now.”

Isaac pointed to the entrance across the room. A group of gaunt-looking men were coming in carrying a harp, drum, hurdy gurdy, flute, pipes, and fiddle. Behind them came a beautiful woman with a small tambourine in her fragile hands.

“Helen,” Isaac named her. “She has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. It sounds wonderful with the harp and flute.”

“Which one is the harp and which the flute?” Merlin asked.

Isaac gaped. “You don’t know? Honestly?”

Merlin shrugged. “I grew up in a small town. I know about music and singing. But I don’t know what those mechanical contraptions are.”

Balinor had sung before, and he’d taught Merlin a few songs, but they were all in Dragon Tongue. And he could play pipes rather well. But he’d never heard real music before, only tales of it.

Isaac blinked. “Alright, well, see that man over there? The one with the long beard? He’s setting up the harp, the thing with all the strings. It may not look like much, but it makes a remarkable sound, just you wait.”

He pointed out another man, this one plucking the strings of a fiddle. “That man there is tuning up a fiddle. It’s a hollowed out piece of wood with strings pulled tight across it that make different pitches.”

Each instrument was explained in full to Merlin and he was eager to hear what the music would sound like when it all came together. He heard the smooth chime of the harp, the pluck of the fiddle strings, the beat of the drum, and the jingle of the tambourine, but it wasn’t in sync yet, wasn’t music.

Everyone in the room looked expectantly at Helen when the setup was finally done. She passed her gaze across the hall dramatically before giving the players a slight nod to begin.

The harp came in first, then the flute. Next was a bit of the drum and finally a bit of tambourine as Helen opened her to mouth to sing.

_“Camelot’s king of old and grey,_

_Sired an heir to the kingdom one day._

_Of Uther Pendragon and Ygraine he was borne,_

_To protect his people and lead he was sworn._

_As each year passed, young Arthur became_

_The man the king needed, but not the same._

 

_Known for his wit, smile, and skill across the land,_

_He slayed his foes with a mighty hand._

_Beast, bandit or bride-to-be,_

_The charming prince conquered all, and he,_

_Smiling triumphant o’er his prize,_

_Did look on it proudly with sparkling blue eyes._

 

_The prince, our prince, fearless leader of the Knights,_

_Rose through the ranks of the tournament fights._

_With sword, mace, bow, axe, and lance,_

_Our Arthur beat opponents that stood no chance._

_And when time came for defense of birth-givers,_

_The handsome prince sent foes ‘way with shivers._

 

_These rescued women hung to his side,_

_Praising and thanking, wishing to be brides._

_The chivalrous prince, with sweet kisses and smiles,_

_Entertained their attention for but a while._

_And when Camelot called for him to fight,_

_He rode out in front, eyes gleaming bright._

 

_The prince, our prince, now King of all,_

_Brought us round to his banquet hall._

_For feasting, music, joy, and wine,_

_All were sure to have a merry time._

_Peace now through Camelot did ring,_

_The glory of which we will sing,_

_And Arthur Pendragon, our mighty King.”_

 

Some of the more intoxicated guests had drifted off to sleep, but most of the ones still awake applauded excitedly. Some, like Wihtred and Cædwalla, clapped half-heartedly and only out of courtesy; Wihtred because he was a conceited ass, and Cædwalla because he didn’t exactly admire Arthur Pendragon.

“That was beautiful,” Merlin said to Isaac.

“Almost as beautiful as the woman herself,” the man commented.

Merlin didn’t reply, just leaned over to refill Arthur’s cup. He waved his thanks then returned talking animatedly to Princess Mithian, the representative from Northumbria.

“And I nearly blinded the poor man!” Arthur laughed. “When I looked to my father, he only smiled and nodded and didn’t say a word. About a year later, when I was of age and practically a man, he became more serious about it. Made me practise so I wouldn’t look a fool.” He took a large sip of wine.

“Well, I’m certainly glad he did,” Mithian replied. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your skills as an archer.”

“Yes, I suppose many have if it’s made its way into songs,” Arthur remarked. “But it’s important that people know I wasn’t always so. Any skill takes time to master. People must never forget that.”

“You are a humble man, Arthur Pendragon. Camelot is lucky to have such a king and I am proud to be your ally.”

The princess placed her hand over Arthur’s and subjected Arthur to her heartbreaking smile.

“Thank you, Mithian. I am equally proud to be yours.”

Merlin knew what jealousy was. He’d experienced it when Arthur needed to speak with Gaius over him and when Arthur could train and enjoy jokes with the knights that he’d never be able to, and a few other various times besides. But he had never experienced jealousy like this before.

Merlin was clenching his free fist so hard that droplets of blood appeared on the floor. Isaac took in Merlin’s intense stare and the scene at the table and understood immediately.

“Ah, I see.” He surreptitiously helped Merlin unclench his hand finger by finger. “So it’s not Helen, but Arthur that strikes your fancy.”

Merlin snapped his head to look at the servant beside him and took back his hand quickly.

“Wh—what? What makes you say that?” The anger was still there but fear had begun to seep in.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?” Isaac smirked. “It’s written all over your face, mate. And you need to calm down. They’re just holding hands. Not even holding hands, they’re just touching.”

Merlin opened his palm and stared at the bleeding crescents. “Do you think anyone else noticed?”

Isaac did a quick once-over of the party. Most people had returned to eating dessert when the instrumental song had begun. Nobody was paying much attention to the lowly servants that waited on the side.

“No. But I’d be more careful if I were you,” Isaac advised. “If he found out you fancy him, he _might_ understand, or he might do something cruel like _my_ master.”

Isaac gestured to the oldest guest present, Cædwalla, who was sipping his wine and staring at the general company with disgust.

“Don’t misunderstand me: I don’t feel anything but hatred towards the man, and would never in a million years fancy him. But what I’m saying is, you’re lucky to have such a nice king. So though it’s best not to get caught expressing any interest, I think if you do, he’ll let you down easy.”

“Uh huh.” If only Isaac knew. If only Merlin could ask for advice on what to do when someone you love looks a lot like they’re loving someone else.

“There’s plenty to choose from here anyway,” Isaac continued. “And it’s the best time. If you get her pregnant, she’ll be back in her own kingdom by the time the baby comes and she’s likely to have slept with so many men here that the father could be just about anyone in this room.”

Isaac laughed but Merlin frowned into the jug and chewed his lip. The servant knew something was wrong but didn’t know what. Surely Merlin couldn’t still be upset over Arthur.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” he began. Merlin looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever felt... _any_ thing for a woman? Ever?”

“Have I ever cared for a woman or have I ever wanted to fuck one?”

“That’s one way of putting it, certainly,” Isaac chuckled at Merlin’s bluntness. “Both questions, I suppose.”

Merlin thought carefully. “In the small town where I grew up, there were many female admirers. I didn’t understand then what they were trying to do, but now that I know more I believe they were trying to seduce me,” he explained. His time in Ealdor felt like a thousand years ago. “I liked them a lot. They were nice and pretty and kind, but I never felt any attraction towards them like they did for me. I cared about them, and I suppose a part of me loved them, just not the kind of love they were looking for.”

“I see. So strictly men for you then?”

Merlin had almost blurted out “Strictly Arthur,” but he caught himself. “Why so many questions?” He asked instead.

“Just trying to find out what you like, mate.” Isaac held his palms up defensively. “How am I going to take your mind off King Arthur if you don’t give me something to work with?”

“Take my mind off—Are you trying to set me up? You’re trying to set me up, aren’t you?”

“Hey. Calm down. You just have to see that Arthur isn’t the only fit, blonde bloke out there. There are many others that are better suited for you.” Merlin sighed and rolled his eyes, but Isaac continued. “So what’s your type? Was there anybody in Ealdor you fancied?”

“I dunno.” Merlin shrugged. “Sometimes when I worked on the farm and it got hot we’d all take off our shirts. It was distracting, seeing them all sweaty and their muscles straining from the work—”

“Right. So you like strength. What else?” Merlin had began to blush and Isaac saved him from continuing his story any further.

“Well, the boy I stayed with, Will; he was funny. Absolutely hilarious.” Merlin smiled at the memory. “He taught me how to swear, you know.”

“Okay. Funny and smart. Anything more?”

Merlin glanced at Arthur again. He was no longer talking to Mithian, but listening appreciatively to the music of the minstrels.

“A good heart. He has to have a good heart.”

“Gods, don’t be such a lovesick fool, Merlin,” Isaac teased. “It’s going to be hard enough to find someone that’s strong and smart—which rarely keep company together—now you want them to have a ‘good heart?’ What’s next, a large stomach?”

Merlin didn’t find it funny but chuckled anyway. Isaac was only trying to help.

“Lucky for you, I know just the man.”

Isaac ran off and disappeared into the horde of people. Merlin sighed and went back to staring dismally into the jug of wine. His reflection stared back at him with a frown.

“Merlin.”

He looked up at the sound of his name. Arthur was calling for him to refill his cup. He walked over and poured the last of the wine in. As he turned to get more, Arthur caught his arm.

“Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I’m fine, sire.”

“Are you sure?”

Merlin glanced around quickly before replying. “There are a lot of people here. I don’t feel well, trapped inside with all of them.” Which was half the truth at least.

“You can leave if you need to. I’ll understand,” Arthur said.

It cut Merlin like a knife. Leave? So Arthur could have more time with Princess Mithian? Never.

“I’ll be fine. It’s only a couple more hours, isn’t it?”

“Yes. One, by the looks of things. People are nodding off left and right.”

It was true. The people that hadn’t slept through the song were struggling to keep their eyes open. Faithful servants were waking their masters to suggest they retire for the evening.

“That’s a relief, then,” Merlin replied.

“Merlin!” Isaac shout-whispered. “Oh, sorry, my lord,” he said and bowed when he noticed Merlin was talking to Arthur.

Arthur resisted the temptation to lift a contemptuous eyebrow. “Friend of yours?” He asked Merlin instead.

“He seems to think so. I’m not quite sure yet.”

“Who’s that with him?”

Merlin looked over his shoulder. There was a man next to Isaac with bright eyes and black hair that curled slightly up and the ends. He had a few freckles from too much time spent outside and was accordingly tanned. When he smiled it stretched across his whole face.

Honestly, he looked a bit like a bigger, stronger, tanner, more attractive Merlin with longer hair, and green eyes rather than blue.

“One of his friends he wants me to meet,” Merlin lied.

Arthur eyed the man with uncertainty and the worry showed on his face.

“He looks nice,” Arthur finally said. “Just—”

“Be careful. I know, Arthur. I heard you the first two thousand times.”

Arthur grinned a bit. “Alright then, fine. Don’t let me keep you from socialising.”

Merlin forgot the wine and went back to join Issac and this new man.

“Merlin, meet Edwin. He’s a servant to Prince Wihtred,” Isaac introduced him.

The name was laced with meaning. Wihtred’s reputation and Edwin’s association with him could only mean he was experienced with the sort of things Merlin liked.

“Hello Merlin. Nice to meet you.” Edwin held out a hand and Merlin shook it.

“Likewise.”

“I was just telling Edwin here about your problem,” Isaac said. Merlin looked ready to explode so Isaac hurried on. “That you want someone you can’t have. And that maybe you just need someone to take your mind off of them.”

Merlin visibly relaxed but he was still troubled. “Isn’t that a bit...mean? I’d just be using him.”

Edwin spoke up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m used so much I don’t mind anymore.”

“See?” Isaac exclaimed. “He’s perfect. Now, follow me.”

Isaac grabbed both their wrists and pulled them through the mass and out the doors.

“Hey, slow down there!” Merlin cried once they were free of the dining hall. “I think you may be more excited for this than I am.” He glanced quickly at Edwin beside him. “No offense,” he added.

“None taken.”

“It’s not excitement, Merlin. It’s initiative,” Isaac explained. “Who knows how long until the party ends and they’ll be looking for us to clean up? There’s only so much time.”

He nearly ran up the stairs and they almost tripped behind him.

“Can I at least have my arm back?” Merlin asked. Isaac let go of them and they rubbed their wrists almost in sync. “Thank you.”

They stopped at the top of the stairs in front of a window that overlooked the palace courtyard. Isaac turned to them.

“Which is the best room?”

Edwin and Merlin exchanged glances. Edwin stepped up this time.

“Isaac, I think you’ve done enough here. We can handle things on our own.”

“Oh! Of course, of course.” He listened a moment. “I think I hear people leaving the feast now. Better find someplace quick.”

He scurried off down the stairs and they were left alone. Merlin stood awkwardly, staring sheepishly at the floor. He had no intention of doing anything with this man, but wasn’t sure how to approach it. He’d normally be upfront about it, but this was someone he just met. He was still a shy cave-boy at heart.

Then the moon came out from behind the clouds and Merlin looked up at it. He longed to be outside, free and surrounded by the peaceful nighttime forest noises.

“You have a lovely smile.”

Merlin turned to the voice. He was so wrapped in his thoughts that he’d forgotten Edwin was there.

“Thank you. I like yours as well. It suits your face.” Merlin was blushing. Oh gods why was he blushing?

Edwin caught it. He cradled Merlin’s face in his right hand and thumbed the pink cheek. “You’re so cute.”

Cute? He’d never been called that before. He’d heard it used by some of the female servants and had taken it to be a feminine term. Why was Edwin using it on _him_?

Edwin trailed his thumb down to Merlin’s lips and caressed them softly. The touch made Merlin shiver.

“Can I kiss you?”

Merlin didn’t notice Edwin leaning in, it was so smooth, so subtle. He said nothing. Whatever this was, it felt nice, but it didn’t feel right. Edwin was attractive but something was off about him.

There was also the fact that Merlin loved Arthur. Arthur may have flirted a bit, and may have let the princess touch him somewhat intimately, but they’d done nothing close to kissing and holding each other this close. This was _wrong_.

However, in the time it took Merlin to think all that, Edwin had pressed his lips first softly, then firmly against Merlin’s. It caught him by surprise and he gasped. Edwin mistook it for encouragement and slipped his tongue between Merlin’s open lips.

This was definitely wrong. This kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, and much too wet. There was too much force, too much desire coming from one end and not being returned from the other. If it was in a heat of passion or a fit of lust, perhaps it might have been better, but it wasn’t. Edwin was kissing harder, squeezing Merlin’s arms, backing him up against the window—

“Stop,” Merlin managed to breathe out. “Stop.”

He tried to push Edwin away but the man held on as if for dear life. Merlin turned his head and Edwin took it to mean he wanted his neck kissed.

“Stop,” Merlin said more forcefully. “I said, stop!”

“Come on, Merlin, you know you want this. You know you _need_ this.” It was the first thing Edwin had said since the assault began and it came out husky yet smooth. For a moment, Merlin believed him. But only for a moment.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Edwin.”

“Trust me, you’re not hurting me.” He began to fumble with Merlin’s neckerchief and Merlin took the opportunity to push Edwin away forcefully.

“Get away from me!” Merlin shouted.

“Merlin,” Edwin chuckled nervously. “Don’t make such a fuss. We were having so much fun.” He started walking towards Merlin with an apologetic expression.

“Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking legs.”

Edwin stopped dead in his tracks.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Touch me again,” Merlin repeated slowly. “And I will break. Your fucking legs.”

“And how’s a scrawny little thing like you going to do that?”

Well, there was magic, but Merlin wasn’t about to out himself as a sorcerer to this ass.

Luckily, he didn’t have to say anything more because just then Isaac came running up the stairs.

“Oh, good, you’re still here. Or maybe that’s bad.” He thought about it a second then decided it didn’t matter. “You’re needed in the dining hall. Those royals made a real mess of things.” He caught the tension a bit later. “What’s going on?”

“I was just leaving,” Merlin snapped. “And Isaac, make sure I never see this sorry excuse for a man ever again.”

***

Not two minutes after Merlin had said he’d stay, the man leaves without a single word. Just practically runs out of the place with two men he barely knows.

Arthur was suspicious.

He called the guests to attention. “It’s been a wonderful evening and I’ve enjoyed catching up with you all. But let’s retire to our beds and resume our celebration tomorrow. I see many of you are as sleep-deprived as I feel.”

There was a short round of applause for both Arthur and the night in general before everyone stood and began making their way out the door. Servants descended on the table like flies and quickly ate whatever had been left over before bringing the dishes to the kitchens.

Arthur rushed out and went where his gut led him. It proved right, for he turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and saw Merlin with the two men talking at the top. He quickly hid himself partially behind the corner and tried to listen to their conversation.

All he heard was the sound of their voices, no distinct words, and eventually one of them left. Arthur hid behind a hanging rug as the man passed then returned to watching Merlin and the mysterious dark-haired boy at the top of the stairs.

At first they said nothing, and Merlin looked out the window for a few moments. Then the boy said something and—Arthur’s heart stopped—brought his hand up to touch Merlin’s face.

This was worse than Enmyria. Worse because it was in his own home, worse because he could do nothing to stop it, and worse because Merlin was _letting it happen_.

Oddly, it wasn’t rage that rose in Arthur, but sadness. Pain, betrayal, guilt. He partly blamed himself. Had swearing off sex for a whole week been so much that Merlin thought he’d been forced to find love elsewhere? Could this boy give Merlin something he couldn’t?

But that couldn’t be it. He and Merlin had been through so much together. It was beginning to feel like they’d known each other forever.

Arthur watched helplessly as the boy leaned in to kiss Merlin and Merlin let him. His stomach dropped when he saw the boy’s tongue dart inside his lover’s mouth.

He was about to turn away and go back to his room to wallow in self-pity when something strange began to happen. Merlin looked like he was struggling. The more he watched the more obvious it became. Merlin _was_ struggling. He was trying to get away.

If that didn’t urge Arthur to come out of hiding and make his presence known, nothing would. And yet though Arthur wanted to, another morbid part of him wanted to see what Merlin would do. He knew this boy—though admittedly fit—was no match for his powerful warlock. Merlin had said he could handle himself. Arthur was a bit curious to see how.

“Stop!”

Arthur heard that loud and clear. The boy muttered something against Merlin’s neck that caused Merlin to try to push away even harder.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Edwin.”

Edwin. That was the boy’s name. Arthur felt a rumble low in his throat and was surprised to find himself growling. Apparently it was catching.

“Get away from me!”

Merlin had finally succeeded in pushing Edwin away and instead of his usual wolf-like aggression, he looked like a scared child. Arthur was two seconds from walking over but what Merlin said next had shocked him into immobility.

“Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking legs.”

Merlin may have looked scared, may have _been_ scared, but the anger in his voice would have fooled anyone. Arthur was surprised to note that the accompanying snarl that usually came with his anger was nowhere to be found in the voice. Perhaps Merlin really was getting better at keeping himself in control.

Footsteps behind him spurred Arthur into action. He hid quickly behind the hanging rug once more and again peeked around the corner when they passed.

The man that had left before had come back. He couldn’t hear what the man said but he heard Merlin:

“Make sure I never see this sorry excuse for a man ever again.”

There was more speaking Arthur couldn’t make out but he knew the conversation was coming to a close. He composed himself as best he could and started up the stairs as regally as possible. The two servants were walking down and Merlin had seemed to disappear.

“My lord.” They bowed when they approached.

“Good evening. I’m looking for my manservant. He seems to have exited before I gave him leave.”

Isaac paled and was speechless. Edwin spoke up.

“Forgive me sire, for I am a visitor. May I ask who your manservant is?”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, and it was Edwin’s turn to lose his colour. “Dark hair, idiot smile, bit of a lanky build. Have you seen him?”

Arthur studied Edwin closely as the man replied. “Uh, yes, I believe I just spoke with him. Didn’t catch his name, but his smile was certainly idiotic,” Edwin stated. “I had no idea who his master was.” He glared at Isaac and the fellow servant tried to apologise with his eyes.

“Did you see which way he went?” Arthur asked.

“We told him he was needed in the dining hall,” Isaac chimed in. “But he walked off muttering something we couldn’t understand.”

“He was looking out the window rather longingly,” Edwin added. “Perhaps he went for a walk.”

Arthur nodded. “He does that a lot. Well, thank you for your help.”

The servants bowed a second time and continued down the staircase. Arthur reached the top and paused. It was this very spot that Merlin had been assaulted. He tried to imagine himself in Merlin’s position, pushing away and being kissed against his will. Would Merlin be able to walk past this spot without remembering what happened here? Would Arthur?

He walked down the corridor in the direction of the entrance on the far side. The quickest way outside was the opposite way, back down the stairs, but Merlin probably hadn’t wanted to walk the same way as the other servants if it was avoidable.

Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about Merlin. He’d heard tales of women breaking down after they’d been assaulted, but Merlin wasn’t a woman. The sorcerer was strong and could look after himself. And Edwin hadn’t _hurt_ Merlin. He’d gripped his arms a bit but surely not enough to leave bruises.

Still, Arthur worried. Merlin might be fine on the outside, but how was he feeling on the inside? He’d never experienced anything like this before, and was sure to be confused. Merlin had assimilated into city life pretty well considering the challenges, but there was still so much he had yet to learn.

Arthur walked into the cool midsummer night and searched for his servant. His eyes were slow to adjust to the dark after so long spent under the bright lights of the castle. He caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows to his right and ran towards it. The shadow disappeared behind a building and Arthur sped up.

“Merlin!” He called softly.

The figure stopped in the alley between the blacksmith’s house and the city wall. He stepped into the moonlight and Arthur beheld the warlock’s tear-stained face.

He rushed to Merlin’s side and wrapped his arms around him. Merlin buried his face in the king’s neck.

“What’s wrong, Merlin?” Arthur asked, as if he didn’t know.

Merlin didn’t answer, not at first, and Arthur was content to let Merlin clutch his cloak and cry beneath him. It was a while before Merlin managed to stifle his tears and speak.

“It’s silly, really.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “It’s just—there’s so many people and—even though I’m used to all the loud noises, this was just too much. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m a bit homesick.”

Arthur looked down into the starry eyes. How innocent they seemed though the man was lying.

“And I know I’ll have to endure it again for another six days. Thinking about it all, knowing that this is just the beginning...it’s terrifying. I’m not sure I can do it without—without—”

“Without what, Merlin?”

“Without losing control.” Merlin swallowed and placed his forehead on Arthur’s shoulder. “You told me they weren’t like us. You gave me fair warning, and I—” Why wouldn’t Merlin just tell him? “I should have taken you more seriously.”

Arthur rubbed the man’s back and breathed into his ear. “We’ll get through this together, Merlin. But you have to tell me everything.” He pulled away and looked Merlin straight in the eye. “Did something happen with those two men I saw you leave with? You’d just told me you planned on staying the rest of evening before you ran out. Whatever it was seemed pretty urgent.” _Tell me the truth. Let me help you the way I should have when I stood by and did nothing._

“I’m sorry. That must have been rather confusing for you. But you were talking with Princess Mithian and I didn’t think I’d be missed all that much so when they asked to see more of the castle—”

“You didn’t think—Merlin, of course you’d be missed.” Arthur gripped Merlin tighter. “I want you by my side always. Don’t you know that by now?” If it was somehow Arthur’s fault that Merlin left, he’d never forgive himself.

A corner of Merlin’s lips curled up in a crooked smile. “I suppose I should.”

And really, what had Merlin been thinking? The only reason he was in this situation was because Arthur was doing this for him, was holding this whole grand event so _he_ would be safe.

“So you went off to show them the castle,” Arthur interrupted his thoughts. “Surely just that wouldn’t cause you to get homesick so suddenly. You walk through the castle every day.”

“No, it was...something else.” Arthur gave him a look that urged him to continue. Merlin sighed. “We were just making polite conversation. You taught me about that, remember? Well, they asked where I grew up and how many women I’ve had. I told them Ealdor, but I didn’t understand the second part. I thought they meant have I ever owned a woman but we’re servants and poor so it couldn’t be that.”

Arthur chewed his lip anxiously. This lie was getting more and more complex. And unnecessarily so.

“I asked them what they meant and they clarified. ‘Had I ever bedded a woman?’ I told them no, that I’d never really wanted to, but there were boys I liked back in Ealdor.” Merlin stiffened under Arthur’s hold and his eyebrows shot up with worry. “I was lying of course. I didn’t really like any of them, just liked _looking_ at some...” When Merlin realised Arthur was still calm and unaffected by the new information he continued bravely. “Anyways, they started acting really weird. Less—less friendly. They were being mean and—and I just thought, you know, they really had no reason to be so cruel to me and if I was back in my cave I wouldn’t have to deal with this, wouldn’t have to deal with _any_ body.” He sighed again dramatically. “So I got homesick and I just had to get out of there.”

Arthur brooded miserably. City life wasn’t all good for Merlin. The shy, benevolent man from the cave was becoming deceptive and increasingly skilled at lying. Something else troubled the king: Merlin didn’t know about prejudice. He didn’t know about people being treated differently because of their preferences. At least, not from Arthur. Which meant that Merlin had been talking to someone, learning the little details of social interaction from another source.

 _And who could that be_ , Arthur wondered.

“I see,” Arthur finally said. “If there’s anything I can do to help—”

“Like I said, it’s nothing. I’ll be fine again tomorrow,” Merlin assured him. “But I’d like to sleep outside tonight if that’s alright with you. I can’t bear to go back in there right now.”

“Of course. I understand.” He tilted his face to the moon. “It’s nice out tonight, isn’t it?”

Merlin looked up at the silver disk that hung high in the sky, then back to Arthur, whose blond locks were glistening in the moonlight. “It is. Even better with you here.”

He squeezed Arthur’s hand and smiled. It wasn’t fake like Arthur expected, but a genuine smile that radiated the usual Merlin-ness. And suddenly everything was better, back to normal.

Arthur raised his hand to cup Merlin’s face, stopping midway when he realised it was exactly what that Edwin abomination had done earlier.

But Merlin leaned into the cradle of Arthur’s hand and purred pleasantly. “I love you,” he said.

Arthur smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Merlin’s lips, trying not to think of the ones that trespassed there not twenty minutes before.

“And I you.” And they were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know Edwin is actually blonde, but I didn't feel that would fit in this story. To have him look like a Merlin 2.0 just seemed more appropriate.


	2. Day Two: Games

Breakfast was served to the few royals that managed to wake up before noon, but many of them enjoyed dinner as their first meal of the day. Merlin, stretching and yawning satisfactorily from a glorious night spent in the wood, was present to serve them.

He was pouring mead into Prince Wihtred’s cup when the man suddenly leaned over and sniffed him.

“Um, sire?”

“You smell of earth,” Wihtred remarked.

“My apologies, sire. I just came from outside and—”

“No, no, it’s quite alright. I like it.” The prince winked and Merlin’s stomach flipped. He’d learned what a wink signified long ago, back in Ealdor. Was the prince flirting or was he imagining it?

“Merlin,” Arthur called from the other end of the table. He held his cup in the air to indicate his need for more.

“He looks upset,” Wihtred smirked. “Better hurry off.” The prince took a sip of his drink as Merlin hurried to Arthur’s side.

“Be careful with him, Merlin,” Arthur muttered in Dragon Tongue, just low enough for Merlin to hear. “He can be...mean as well.”

Merlin finished pouring the drink and stepped back. “Yes, sire. Will there be anything else?”

Arthur frowned at the formality. “No, thank you.”

The rest of the dinner was uneventful and afterwards all were ushered into the throne room where Arthur would address his guests and inform them of the plans for the duration of the week.

Nobles and royalty alike shuffled in and sat down graciously. The representatives from other kingdoms—Princess Mithian, Cenred, Prince Wihtred, and Cædwalla—stood beside Arthur’s throne. When all were settled, Arthur rose and greeted them.

“I hope you all had a restful sleep and a delicious meal. I’ve gathered you here today to inform you of the rest of the week’s events,” he began. “Today will be for entertainment and sport: horseshoes, archery, theatrical performances, and the like. Tomorrow will be spent hunting and at the end of the day we’ll have a dance. The fourth and fifth days we will hold the meeting of which is the main purpose of this gathering. The sixth day will be for jousting and tournament. And finally, the last day we will have more performances and another dance.”

He scanned the crowd and found their approval of the schedule. With a glance behind him he reckoned the same of the four ambassadors.

“I assume that is acceptable for all?” Arthur said, just to be sure. Nobody said anything to the contrary. “Then let us begin the day’s events.”

***

Merlin didn’t like games. He found that most of them required a lot of fetching on his part. He had to fetch horseshoes, he had to fetch arrows, he had to fetch hammers—which was no easy task, considering these men could throw pretty far—and by the end of it all he was exhausted and sweaty and dirty.

There was an upside—and yet also a downside—to watching the games: the wrestling.

The upside was, he could observe handsome young men in nothing but their trousers, tackling and holding down their opponents in rather suggestive positions. The downside was the problem that created in his breeches.

Merlin pulled his tunic down to cover it and hoped nobody would notice if he walked oddly. But unfortunately, somebody did.

The men he’d been fetching for had had enough for the day and he’d just gone inside to watch some men play chess when a familiar voice spoke up beside him.

“You smell of work.”

Merlin jumped. “Hello, Prince Wihtred. I apologise, I was—”

“It’s fine, Merlin. I’d be disappointed if it was apparent you _weren’t_ working so hard.”

Merlin tried to tug down his shirt as surreptitiously as possible but Wihtred still caught the movement and eyed Merlin with a knowing smirk.

“Is something the matter with your clothing?” He asked.

“It’s just the fabric. I don’t expect you’d know because your clothes are made from the finest cloth, but servant clothing is rather itchy.”

“Do you talk to your own master in so forward a manner?” The tone was angry but the prince’s eyes were gleaming with delight.

“I—I didn’t mean to sound informal, sire, I only meant—”

“Forget it.” Wihtred waved it away and the matter dropped. “I’ll speak to Arthur about getting you new clothes if you’d like. I’m sure such a kind man as him would be happy to accommodate you.”

“He’s, er, not particularly accommodating,” Merlin lied.

“Then allow me. Now, let’s have a look at you for the seamstresses.” The prince reached out his hands to lift Merlin’s tunic and the servant realised a second too late what he was doing.

“Wait, no, stop—”

“Ah. Well, I can see how this might be...uncomfortable.” There was a mischievous sparkle in the prince’s eye. “I’d be happy to...accommodate you in other ways as well, Merlin.”

Merlin pulled his shirt down with a quick scan over the few people who were also watching the chess game. Nobody seemed to have noticed. Or maybe they did but were so used to Wihtred’s antics that they knew better than to say anything.

“That won’t be necessary, sire. I’m sure this particular problem will go away shortly,” Merlin replied hurriedly.

Wihtred leaned forward to speak into Merlin’s ear and the servant thanked the gods that at least they were in a darker corner of the room. But on the other hand, Merlin was literally cornered and could not back away any farther.

“I noticed you watching the wrestling matches rather intently,” the prince said, his voice husky with desire. “I suppose that may be what caused your little problem in the first place?”

Wihtred snaked a hand over the bulge in Merlin’s breeches and Merlin inhaled sharply. Still no one looked in their direction.

“Sire, may I ask what you’re doing?” Merlin asked lowly.

Wihtred moved his hand up and down along Merlin’s long shaft. “Accommodating you.”

Just as Merlin was cursing his very existence he heard a voice he’d never been happier to hear.

“Merlin!” Leon called. The prince froze and Merlin looked over Wihtred’s shoulder. “I need you over here.”

“I have to go,” Merlin muttered.

“Come to me later,” Wihtred ordered. “I assume you know which room I’m staying in.”

“I don’t really think that’s necessary, sire. And I’m sure you could easily find someone else, someone more willing—”

“You mean to say you’re not willing?”

“Merlin!” Leon called again, this time more urgently.

Merlin slipped from beneath Wihtred’s intimidating form and pulled his tunic down once more. “Coming, Sir Leon.”

Wihtred slunk out of the small, dim room as silently as a snake.

“Leon, I’ve never been happier to see you,” Merlin sighed in relief when he was safe in the knight’s company.

“I figured he’d try to pull something. Was he?” Merlin tugged on his shirt absent-mindedly and Leon caught the motion. “Ah,” he said, blushing. “I see. Arthur will not be pleased.”

“What? No, you can’t tell Arthur!” Merlin protested.

“Why not? He should know when his—his manservant is being mistreated. And by a royal, honourable guest at that.”

“Please, Leon, don’t say a word. It’ll just cause trouble. He needs there to be harmony if this council is to be successful. I can’t worry him with petty things like being touched against my will.”

Leon sighed. “You’re right, Merlin, but that is no excuse for Wihtred. Something needs to be done about him. He needs to know you are strictly off-limits. Everyone should know that.”

“Well, I can’t exactly go around with a sign on my head saying ‘Hands off, I belong to Arthur.’”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin. I was thinking of something much more subtle.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know,” Leon admitted. “But in the meantime, I’ll tell the knights to look out for you. If Wihtred, or anyone, tries anything again, we’ll be there to save you.”

Merlin felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “I can’t thank you enough, Leon. You’re a good friend.”

“And you are good to Arthur. I know of no one else so willing to suffer for our king, though any resident of Camelot would gladly lay down their life for the man. Now.” They stopped and Merlin realised they’d walked back to Gaius’s chambers. “You should stay here until, er, _that_ is taken care of.”

Merlin glanced down at the bulge in his trousers and blushed. “Right, well, thanks again, Leon. If you hadn’t have shown up I don’t know what I would have done.”

He waved a final goodbye and disappeared into the safety of his room.

And then there was a cough.

Merlin turned around slowly and met the curious eye of the physician. “Oh, hello, Gaius.”

“Hello, Merlin. Care to explain?”

“Explain what?”

Gaius gestured to Merlin’s lower waist and the servant’s blush deepened as he crossed his hands over the obscenity.

“Prince Wihtred.”

Gaius nearly exploded. “What?! Does Arthur know?”

“No, Arthur does not know, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“What exactly happened?”

“Gaius, that’s not a question I’d like to answer right at this moment...” It was one thing to be aroused next to Leon, and a completely other thing to be around Gaius.

“Merlin, I’m a doctor. I’m hardly what you’d call ‘sensitive’ to such matters,” Gaius pointed out.

“I suppose that’s true. Still, it doesn’t make me feel any better about this, uh, situation.”

“So tell me briefly.”

Merlin groaned. There was no way out of this, not with Gaius.

“Okay, fine. In short, I got a bit excited from watching the wrestling match and Wihtred noticed and so he tried to ‘accommodate’ me right there and then—though admittedly the room was a bit dark—and Leon, luckily, came by and said he needed me, thus saving me from the evil prince’s probing hands.”

Gaius just nodded. _Just nodded_. “That certainly sounds like the Wihtred they tell tales about.”

“That’s it? No ‘Sorry you had to go through such an ordeal, Merlin?’ No ‘How dare the prince try to corrupt an innocent boy like you?’ Really, nothing?”

Gaius chuckled. “Well, you’re here aren’t you? You seem fine to me. And let’s be honest here, Merlin. You’re not as innocent as you’d like people to believe, are you? You have that look about you.”

Merlin gulped. Any other time he’d have asked, “What look?” but this was not any other time. Merlin was in no state to linger and converse with Gaius. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

“Yeah, well, thanks for the support.”

He practically ran to his room and locked the door behind him. He didn’t think Gaius would interrupt him, he just felt better with the door locked.

With a relieved sigh, he freed himself of his trousers and his cock sprang out. He lost no time in laying back on his bed and fisting his leaking prick.

He imagined it was Arthur who had his hands on him, urging him to come and whispering dirty things in his ear. Merlin loved hearing Arthur talk during sex, though it only happened when the king was more than a little pissed. Then, Arthur would say things like “Yeah, Merlin, faster,” and “Fuck me, Merlin, gods yeah, fuck me hard, harder!” Even though Merlin was completely out of it and was taken over by animal instinct, part of him still registered what Arthur said, and it drove him absolutely mad with lust. He suspected Arthur would have liked to hear the same from Merlin, but he was so incoherent that he simply couldn’t speak when he was in the thick of it. It was like his brain forgot everything but the evolutionary skill of fucking.

He slid two fingers into his mouth then slipped them into his arse. This was another thing Merlin missed. Arthur was intent on Merlin fucking him, but Merlin sometimes longed for the feeling of Arthur being inside him, of filling him up so much he might burst. He just didn’t know how to ask for it. It seemed like something Arthur was unwilling to do.

With the combined pleasures, Merlin came quickly and—luckily, for Gaius was still on the other side of the door—quietly. He cleaned himself up quickly and redressed to hurry off to Arthur’s chambers. There were still his regular chores to be done.

***

“You smell like sex, Merlin,” Arthur said, sniffing his manservant. It was just Merlin’s luck that the king would be relaxing in his chambers right after he’d gotten done with _that_. “And your hair. It’s a bit...tousled.”

Merlin decided that telling the truth—or at least some of it—was best in this situation.

“It was the wrestling match.”

“The wrestling match?” Arthur frowned, not understanding. Then a look of comprehension dawned on him. “Oh! The _wrestling_ match. Right. Got it. And then I guess you...oh, okay. I see.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t want to have to draw you a picture.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Arthur chuckled. “Though I’m surprised. I thought you had eyes only for me,” he said teasingly.

“Hardly,” Merlin replied in the same teasing tone. “You’re not nearly as fit as some of men out there.”

“You wound me,” Arthur stated in mock offense. “And if I wrestled? It would elicit the same reaction I assume.”

“ _You_? Wrestle?”

“I used to, when I was younger.” Arthur shrugged.

Merlin thought about it a moment as he hung Arthur’s clothes in the wardrobe. “I don’t think so. I’d be too jealous, seeing you so close to others.”

Arthur laughed. “You don’t _get_ jealous, Merlin.”

“Yes I do!”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

“What could you possibly have to be jealous about?”

“Well, there’s a certain Princess I could name,” Merlin muttered. He hoped Arthur wouldn’t hear it, but of course he did.

“Mithian?! You’re jealous of Mithian?” Arthur laughed again. “Because I talked to her for an evening? That’s hardly anything to be jealous of, Merlin.”

“You didn’t _just_ talk. She touched you.”

“She put her hand over mine. That’s hardly touching.”

To prove a point Merlin walked over and placed his hand over Arthur’s, and stared deeply into the king’s eyes.

Arthur’s heart started racing and he suppressed the urge to lean forward and kiss his lovely manservant.

“Tell me this doesn’t make you feel anything,” Merlin challenged, the words pushing air over Arthur’s lips and dancing across them like soft caresses.

“It’s different. I love you. I don’t feel anything for her.”

Merlin pulled away and Arthur had to clear his head. It felt like he’d been underwater and had just resurfaced.

“Well.” Merlin returned to Arthur’s laundry. “She’s pretty.”

“And you’re beautiful,” Arthur countered.

“She’s royalty.”

“You’re a sorcerer.”

Merlin swallowed and said the last of his worries. “She’s a woman.”

“I prefer you.”

Merlin turned on his heels furiously. “Why do you insist on raising me on some kind of pedestal? Don’t you see? I’m a freak, a sorcerer, a nobody. She’s royalty, she can give you an heir. She’s practically perfect for you. I don’t understand how you could love someone like me.”

Arthur frowned. When had this turned from joking to a full blown argument?

“Merlin, why do I need a reason for loving you? It never seemed to matter before.”

“You don’t and it still doesn’t. I just—I don’t know.”

“You think too little of yourself,” Arthur supplied. “You don’t think you’re worth my love, is that it? There _has_ to be a reason why a king would fall in love with a servant, right?” Merlin nodded. Arthur stood. “You’re wrong. What did you say Gwaine told you, that night?”

“You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

“Exactly. Love is a mysterious thing, Merlin. I can’t say why I love you, I can only say that seeing you smile makes my whole day better, that just being with you makes me the happiest man alive, that knowing you’re mine and I’m yours gives me satisfaction like no other. Do you see what I mean, Merlin?”

“I do. I understand completely,” Merlin said. “But what about an heir? You have to have a son. You know I can’t give you that.”

“I’ve already figured that out,” Arthur smiled. “I’ll select a suitable woman, one that benefits the kingdom, and marry her. She’ll have her own room and maids but she’ll be like a constant guest. Just someone else that lives here. I’ll make use of her the one time—or as many times as required to sire a son—and the rest of the time she’ll simply be another person in the castle.” He approached Merlin and put an arm around him. “She’ll sit beside me as queen but you will share my bed. You will always be who I love.”

“Do you know who the woman will be yet?”

“I don’t know. That’s probably years in the future, Merlin. And whoever it is, you’ll have a say in it. I want the three of us to be good friends and for there to be no awkwardness between us.”

“I’m not sure I like the idea of sharing you.”

“It won’t be sharing, Merlin. I’ll be all yours. Surely, you know what it’s like to be attracted to someone but not love them. In fact, I know for a fact you do if today’s events are anything to go by,” Arthur remarked.

“So just the one time to conceive a child, and then that’s it?”

“That’s it. And the marriage would just be for court purposes. Just a title. It won’t make any difference in my feelings for you. By then, everyone will know about us, and the arrangement I’m explaining to you now will be explained to them as well.”

Merlin exhaled in relief and positioned himself more comfortably under Arthur’s arm, pressing his face into Arthur’s shoulder.

“Have I told you that I love you?”

Arthur smiled and kissed Merlin’s forehead. “Once or twice.”

***

Since most woke late and the games took up the majority of the day, it was soon night. Supper was just as crowded and just as noisy but Merlin had prepared himself this time and it was easier to withstand.

He tried his best to focus on each task at hand, ignoring Isaac’s obvious attempts at getting his attention from across the room. Luckily for Merlin, Cædwalla was in a better mood and therefore more inclined to drink. This meant more work for Isaac.

As eager as he was to see what exactly a “play” entailed, he was dead on his feet from so much fetching earlier in the day. With Arthur’s permission, he retired to his chambers early, bathed briefly, and slipped into bed.

Merlin slept maybe an hour or so before there was a loud knock on his bedroom door.

Groaning, he pulled himself up and opened the door a crack to find the reason behind the disturbance.

“What is it, Gaius?” Merlin asked the frowning old man in front of him.

“There’s someone here to see you. Says he’s been sent to bring you back to his master,” Gaius explained. “And that he’s not to return without you. I tried everything I could, Merlin.”

Merlin rubbed his eyes and stepped out of his room irritatedly. He opened his mouth to tell whoever it was to get lost and come back in the morning but froze when he saw who it was.

Edwin.

Prince “come to me later” Wihtred’s servant Edwin.

“No way,” Merlin said to the man standing in the doorway. “Get out, now.”

“You haven’t even heard me out yet,” Edwin protested.

“I don’t need to. First you, then your master. What is wrong with the people in Kent?” Merlin shook his head. “Leave, Edwin.”

“You think I _wanted_ to come down here? When the prince found out I knew you he—” Edwin looked over Merlin’s shoulder at Gaius. “Look, just let me speak to you. In private.”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder at Gaius. The physician was obviously curious and would demand explanations later, but Merlin certainly didn’t want to have this particular conversation in front of him.

“Fine. But don’t forget what I said about your legs.”

Merlin followed Edwin out into the corridor, well out of earshot of the doors should Gaius try to eavesdrop.

“First, I’d like to apologise.”

What a terrible way to start. Merlin snorted. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Merlin would never admit it to anyone, but Edwin had changed him the previous night. Before, he’d only heard about such things happening to people, never been on the receiving end. He could hardly believe that just a year ago he’d been a cave-dwelling warlock with only revenge on his mind. Now he was in love with a king, living in a city, friends with knights, and dealing with problems he’d never had to before.

All the shit that was happening was making him a bit cynical. He didn’t like who he was becoming. He wanted things to just be simple again.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve had to go through?” Merlin raised his voice. “You don’t. You have no _fucking_ idea what’s happened to me. And yet you think that you can come along, fuck everything up, and just apologise and that everything will be okay. Well it doesn’t fucking work like that, Edwin. So you better have something a lot better than an apology.”

Merlin’s hands were curled into claws and his breathing had taken on the ragged, rumbling effect of a growl. He was beyond any attempt at control. Edwin cowered in front of him like a lamb before a lion.

“I’m s-sorry, Merlin. I can’t take back what I did. I realise that. I wasn’t thinking about how it might—I just wasn’t thinking,” Edwin stammered. “But I can’t go back to my master without you. He’s not nice like Arthur. He’ll punish me.”

“ARGH!”

Merlin pushed the servant against the wall and his hands closed around Edwin’s throat, trapping the breath in and holding the air out. He brought his mouth to Edwin’s ear and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Do I look like I care? If he was threatening to kill you, I’d still say no. You deserve to be punished, you craven miscreant.”

“ _Merlin!_ ”

Merlin’s head snapped to the voice coming from his right. Arthur stood in the arched opening to the hallway, looking very much worried and very much afraid.

Merlin’s lips pulled back to reveal more of his teeth as he growled at the king. Speech was beyond him now. What he meant was, “Get out of here Arthur, this doesn’t concern you.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, walking cautiously towards the pair of them. He stopped mid-step when he saw Merlin’s grasp on Edwin’s neck tighten.

“Merlin,” he tried again. “Let go of him, now.”

Edwin’s eyes squeezed shut and tears burst free when he opened them again. His face was getting bluer by the second and his hands clawed fruitlessly at Merlin’s grip around his neck.

“Help,” he squeaked, looking at Arthur pleadingly.

Merlin pounded Edwin’s head against the wall and the servant saw stars. Arthur dared to take a step closer.

When he realised Merlin was focused on beating Edwin, he shot forward and put his hands on the warlock. Suddenly, Merlin swung his right arm and lashed out, hitting Arthur across the face. Arthur held his nose in pain and when he pulled away his hands were soaked in red.

The king heard Edwin fall to the ground and start taking in large lungfuls of air. He looked up and saw Merlin staring wide-eyed at him.

“Merlin, don’t panic,” Arthur said.

But Merlin was doing just that. His breath was coming in quick, short bursts and it felt like an anvil was on his chest again. All he could see was the blood gushing from Arthur’s nose.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Arthur assured him.

Tears escaped Merlin’s eyes and ran down his cheeks. His hands were still shaking as he brought them up to his face, staring at them like they were completely alien. Blood was dripping from two fingers on his right hand.

Arthur stepped forward and Merlin jumped back.

“No!” Merlin cried.

“It’s fine, Merlin. You won’t hurt me.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no...” Merlin walked backwards until he hit a wall. Unable to stand any longer, he slid and let his head fall forward. “No, no, no, no, no, no...”

Urged on by the opportunity, Edwin stood and tried to run for it.

“Oh no you don’t.” Arthur caught him by the arm and held him in place. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“B-back to my master.”

“I need to talk to you first. Take a seat.”

Edwin sank slowly back to the ground and sat. “He’ll come looking for me soon.”

Arthur got right down to business. “Not a word of this to anyone, understand? Not even your beloved master.”

“But he attacked me! Like some kind of wild animal!”

“And what if Wihtred were to find out that _you_ attacked _him_?”

“What? I didn’t—”

“Yesterday evening. By the window at the top of the stairs. Sound familiar?”

Edwin gulped. “You saw.”

“I saw. And I don’t think Wihtred would be pleased to know what you were doing without his permission. Now, Merlin is my personal manservant and therefore ranks higher above other servants of the castle. I trust him with my life.”

“You trust that—that _thing_ with your life?!” Edwin gestured to the sullen man whose body racked with silent sobs.

“I do. And if you so much as _look_ at him funny, I will not only _let_ him break your legs, I will _make_ him. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sire.”

“And wear a scarf until the bruises on your neck fade. If Wihtred asks about it, make up something believable, I don’t care what.”

“Yes, sire. When he asks why I’ve returned without Merlin, what should I say?”

“He—he sent for Merlin?” Arthur asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

Arthur seethed with rage. “Tell him what I told you: that Merlin is my personal manservant and that he is to be ordered by me and me alone.”

Edwin stood hesitantly. “Yes, my lord. Thank you for—for saving me. And I am sorry for what I did yesterday.”

“Yes, well, ‘sorry’ won’t repair the damage you’ve done, will it?” Arthur snapped. “Go.”

Edwin hurried away into the night and Arthur turned to face the broken man before him. He approached slowly and slid down the wall to sit beside him. Merlin said nothing and didn’t raise his head.

“Merlin.” Arthur placed a hand hesitantly on Merlin’s arm and shook it a bit when he still didn’t respond. “Merlin, please look at me.”

“I hurt you.” Arthur thought he imagined it for a moment, but Merlin repeated it louder, still not looking up. “I hurt you. Again.”

“It’s just a bloody nose. At least I didn’t pass out this time.”

At that Merlin did lift his head. “Why are you treating this like it’s some kind of joke? You’re bleeding Arthur. You’re hurt.”

Arthur sighed. “I’m fine, Merlin. I understand sometimes you do things without meaning to, and I’ve gotten used to it.”

“So you think this is just something you’ll have to deal with? That being with me means having to be roughed up every now and again? And you’re just willing to take it?”

“It’s not like that, Merlin, you know it’s not. We’re dealing with this _together_. You’ve been doing well, it’s just that this whole event is a bit of a strain. Believe me, I’ve wanted to choke a certain prince once or twice myself.”

Merlin was silent for a while, just sat looking ahead. Finally, he stood and Arthur followed his lead.

“I should take a look at your nose.”

They walked back to the physician’s chambers and Gaius gasped when they entered.

“Merlin, honestly, you leave to talk to a serving boy and you bring back an injured king. I don’t understand how you get in these situations,” the old man chided.

Arthur saw Merlin’s muscles tense slightly. “It’s not his fault,” he said before Merlin could say anything. Merlin turned on his heels and stared at him incredulously. “It was Edwin. He had his hands on Merlin to try and take him back by force. I came up behind Edwin and he elbowed me in the face before realising who I was.”

Gaius believed it. “What of Edwin?”

“I sent him back to his master with a warning. Wihtred shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

Gaius fixed Merlin with a meaningful stare, before continuing. “I’ll get you cleaned up, sire. For now lay down over there with your head back to stop the bleeding.”

Arthur did so, and Merlin approached hesitantly as Gaius ran about searching for a clean cloth and a tub of water.

Looking down at the magnificent man with worry, Merlin softly caressed Arthur’s face.

“I _was_ doing well,” he sighed.

“Don’t trouble yourself with it, Merlin.”

“Arthur, I—I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Arthur’s heart stopped. “What do you mean?”

“I think it’s best if I return to the cave.”

He clutched Merlin’s sleeve. “No.”

“I can’t keep hurting you.”

“You’d be hurting me even more by leaving.”

“Arthur.”

“Stay.” He tightened his grip. “Stay, Merlin. Please.”

Gaius returned with a damp cloth and began cleaning the blood from Arthur’s face. “Thankfully, I don’t think anything’s broken,” he announced. “But it’s going to be sore for a while. You may have trouble sleeping tonight.”

“That’s fine. I’ve endured much worse,” the king replied.

Merlin stood and turned to go to his room.

“Merlin,” Arthur stopped him.

“I’m staying,” Merlin assured him. “Good night, Arthur.”

He closed the door behind him and Arthur began breathing normally again.

Gaius shook his head. “One day I’ll learn that infernal language so I can understand just what it is you two talk so seriously about.”

***

It was midday but the castle was completely empty. Where was everybody?

Arthur opened the doors to the throne room and gasped at the sight before him.

Merlin sat in the throne, completely naked and wearing the king’s crown on his head. His legs were spread wide and his cock was standing with arousal. One hand cupped his chin while the other tapped boredly on the armrest.

“Finally,” Merlin drawled. “I’ve been waiting for _ever_.”

Arthur looked around, but found nobody else present. Merlin was speaking English, though they always spoke in Dragon Tongue when they were alone.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come here.”

Arthur walked forward in a daze. When he reached the throne, Merlin smiled and took his hand.

“My king.”

“My sorcerer.”

Arthur didn’t realise the words left his mouth until he heard them. He felt like someone else was in control of his actions.

Merlin stood and placed his king on the throne. Arthur looked down at himself and noticed he was now as naked as Merlin. When had that happened?

The warlock grinned at Arthur with a twinkle in his eyes and Arthur felt himself harden. Merlin straddled him, legs splaying over the armrests. He lowered himself down slowly onto Arthur’s oiled cock and keened when it entered him.

“Mmm,” Merlin moaned. “Gods, it’s been so long.”

He started rocking back and forth, sighing contentedly from the friction of his prick against Arthur’s stomach and the king impaling his tight arse.

Arthur, slightly dazed at first but now getting into it, started bucking his hips, setting a slow pace at first, but then began driving into Merlin with full force.

He was faintly aware of the room changing around them. Blades of grass and sprouts began to emerge from the cracks in the stone floor, shrubs and trees started to grow, flowers bloomed.

“Yeah—yeah—yeah, fuck me Arthur, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Merlin cried breathlessly.

Arthur was panting heavily. “You like this? Huh, Merlin? You like your king fucking you like this? Letting me have my wicked way with you?” Where were these words coming from?

“Yeah. Gods yeah, Arthur, don’t stop, fill me up, I want your seed in me, I want everything.”

And _fuck_ , Merlin was so tight. Just months ago he’d been able to fit his whole hand inside, but now the muscles clenched around him deliciously.

He groaned. “Merlin.”

As if on cue, the warlock painted Arthur’s chest with thick white strands of come. He collapsed forward, his head falling to Arthur’s shoulder, and still Arthur fucked him with reckless abandon. Then Merlin raised his head and looked deep into his king’s eyes.

His complexion had gone deathly pale, and his eyes sparkled gold, a hint of malice radiating from them. Arthur’s stomach tightened. For the first time, he noticed—really noticed—the lush vegetation that had grown around them. Every inch of the room was covered in green: grass on the floor, ivy crawling up the walls, shrubs and large trees here and there. It was still recognisable as the throne room, just completely transformed.

When Arthur’s eyes landed on Merlin again he found the sorcerer’s face twisted into an evil grin. His canines were elongated and sharp, much like the legends that told of creatures in human form feeding on the blood of others. As the grin spread Arthur saw that his lower canines were sharpened as well. His lover had turned into some kind of pale-skinned bloodsucker-wolf hybrid, still wearing the king’s crown royally on his head.

Arthur shivered with fear, but kept pushing upwards into his manservant. He kept his eyes locked on Merlin, deathly afraid of what the animal he’d become would do next. The force controlling him wouldn’t let him stop, and though it was still a pleasant feeling, Arthur wished he was a hundred leagues away.

He faintly noticed that the leaves of the trees were dying and falling, the ivy turning a dead red-brown colour on the walls. Flowers wilted and shrubs grew bare.

Then something snapped inside of Merlin. A low growl rumbled in his throat and Arthur felt rather than heard the echo it produced. It was as if it were coming from inside the walls, surrounding him with its fear-evoking sound.

Still, Arthur fucked Merlin in earnest. How the wild man managed to look so menacing while bouncing up and down on his cock was a mystery.

As Arthur neared his climax Merlin threw his head back and howled. Immediately, the throne room doors opened and a pack of silver-white wolves sauntered in. They surrounded the throne in an enclosed circle, licking their lips in anticipation.

The last thing Arthur remembered was Merlin’s teeth sinking into his throat as he came with a cry.


	3. Day Three: Hunting

Arthur awoke with a gasp, snapping to a sitting position as soon as he opened his eyes.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

He did a mental inventory: He was in his room. His manservant had thought about leaving. And it was the third day of the midsummer celebration, meaning today they would go hunting.

Arthur groaned. Of all nights to have a dream such as that, it had to be last night. But he couldn’t stay home from his own celebratory hunting trip. He had to man up and push forward.

But first he had to check on Merlin.

He dressed quickly and all but ran to Gaius’s chambers.

“Sire!” Gaius started when Arthur burst through the doors.

“Is Merlin here?”

Just then the door to Merlin’s room opened and the man came shuffling down the steps, shrugging into his jacket. He froze when he saw Arthur. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.

“Worried I’d leave in the night like a thief?”

Arthur relaxed. Now that the sun was up everything seemed better.

“Not at all. Just coming to say you’re late and I’m hungry.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I had a rough night. Give me a break.”

“If everyone who had a rough night got a break we’d all be better off. However, that is not the case.” Arthur mocked good-naturedly. “I expect breakfast in ten minutes, Merlin.” And like the royal ass that Merlin knew and loved, he left.

***

Hunting was tiresome work, but with Merlin along it was always better. Merlin’s sharp hearing and keen eye for disturbances helped Arthur greatly, and the king was the unanimous choice for best huntsman.

They brought home their game and the cooks went straight to preparing it. The guests returned to their rooms and changed for the evening’s events. Tonight, a ball was scheduled to take place, the first of two, and many were eager for night to fall.

Knights, dukes, and kings alike dressed in their best attire as they feasted on the animals they’d killed only hours before. Servants donned their formalwear and attended their masters with grace and poise. Even Merlin.

They dined in the grand hall so that dancing could take place at the same time as supper. The tables were set up in a square, with one side missing, and chairs were placed on the outside so all could watch.

Dukes who’d brought their wives agreed to share for the night and mingled with other royal folk on the floor. Many duchesses were eager to dance with Prince Wihtred, and the narcissist was more than happy to comply.

Merlin served whomever called out to him but stuck mostly to Arthur’s side when he wasn’t busy. Arthur drank more wine than Merlin had ever seen before and laughed heartily at the most trivial of things. As the guests got more and more intoxicated, the dancing grew uncoordinated and soon everyone was having a fun time.

The servants too managed to steal sips here and there when nobody was paying attention, which was often. And though Merlin was definitely not on speaking terms with Edwin, he was still at least acquaintances with Isaac, and the man urged Merlin to drink his fill. Merlin _had_ sworn off drink but also never had wine before, only mediocre ale, and was curious as to the taste.

Isaac insisted Merlin drink a whole cup, after which he was of course inclined to drink more. They laughed at the nobles making fools of themselves but also managed to humbly serve when one of them needed something.

Among all, Wihtred was the most level-headed. Though he’d drunk as much as anyone he seemed almost sober, and would have passed for so had it not been for the occasional stumble when he walked. He subtly made his way over to where Isaac and Merlin stood laughing and surprised them by creeping up behind them.

“Looks like someone has been enjoying themselves,” the prince drawled in their ears.

They jumped and turned. “Prince Wihtred!” Isaac exclaimed. Merlin suddenly wished he were somewhere else.

“Hello.” He nodded to Merlin. “Merlin. I’ve been wondering when I’d see you again.”

“Should you need me, I am mostly like to be found at the king’s side where I am supposed to be,” Merlin stated.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“And if I need you when you are not at his side, say, now, for instance?” Wihtred countered. Isaac’s eyes widened.

“What is it you require?” Merlin asked flatly.

“Explanation. I recall sending Edwin down last night to bring you to my chambers and yet you refused. Even somehow involved the king.” Wihtred’s eyes sparkled with hatred at the memory.

Merlin shrugged, only further insulting the prince’s rank. “He happened to walk by while I was speaking with Edwin. I was in the process of refusing him when Arthur decided to intervene.” The sorcerer blinked innocently. “Trust me, I would never involve Arthur in such matters on purpose.”

Wihtred cracked a small smile. “You admit then, that you wouldn’t like to bring Arthur into this?”

“I wouldn’t like to, but I will if I must. I’m his, you see.”

Wihtred’s eyes got as a big as saucers. Isaac nearly choked and elbowed Merlin in the ribs. Merlin too late realised the effect of his words.

“His manservant, I mean. I’m sure Edwin told you I’m to follow Arthur’s orders alone.”

Wihtred’s smile spread knowingly and Merlin’s felt his heart sink. “I see you serve the other guests, and perform tasks for them.”

“Arthur has asked me to serve wherever I am needed. Fetching horseshoes and filling cups, things of that sort.”

“And if I needed you to fetch something and bring it to me in my chambers?”

Isaac took a large sip of wine. Situations like this were too much for him.

Merlin swallowed. “You’d have to ask Arthur.”

“Then I shall.”

Merlin’s calm demeanor shattered and he froze when he saw Wihtred move toward the king. “Now?”

“What better time?”

And because Merlin was a simple serving boy, he could do no more to stop the determined prince.

Arthur was dancing with Princess Mithian when Wihtred so rudely approached and asked to speak with him. He made a disgusted face at the man, so taken aback was he at the action. Even Mithian disapproved, and it was she that spoke up.

“Really now, Wihtred, what kind of gentleman interrupts a dance for what I’m sure is some trivial matter?”

“My apologies, Princess. I will return the king to you as quick as I am able.” Wihtred bowed low and looked up at her with mischievous eyes.

She released the king and went back to her seat, refusing to dance with anyone else the rest of the night.

“What is the meaning of this, Wihtred?” Arthur demanded when they were in the safety of a shadowed corner.

“It is your manservant, Merlin.” He held up a hand when Arthur opened his mouth to speak. “Edwin informed me. However, Merlin has told me that you have allowed him to fetch things for other guests. Is that right?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“I wish only that he bring me a bowl of fruit before I go to bed tonight. He insisted that I ask you first, seeing as he is _your_ manservant.”

“It was right of him to do so. Why can’t that boy of yours, Edwin, bring you what you need?”

“He may be, well, he may be otherwise occupied at that moment,” Wihtred confessed, blushing.

“And you want me to send Merlin into that? You may not know this about Merlin, but he’s a country lad originally. What _you_ do behind closed doors may scar him for life,” Arthur replied with a breathy chuckle.

“You don’t know much in the way of country boys, do you?” Wihtred retorted. “When all the farm work is done, they manage to get up to the wildest things,” he said suggestively. “Trust me. I know.”

“Merlin is not that kind of country boy.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“I may have caught him in a rather compromising position after the wrestling match yesterday.”

The thought that Wihtred had seen Merlin— _his_ Merlin—getting himself off behind a tree or a wall, sent Arthur nearly into a fit of rage. It was good that he didn’t know the truth.

“Let’s be frank, Wihtred. You will not lay a hand on my manservant. Nor will Edwin. Merlin is mine. Do you understand?”

Wihtred simply laughed. “I believe I do.”

Arthur, like Merlin, realised late the implied meaning behind his words. “I mean he is my servant.”

“And Edwin is my servant,” Wihtred pointed out.

“Yes, well, I don’t treat my servants quite the same way you do,” Arthur clarified.

“Merlin _did_ say you weren’t very accommodating.”

“He said that?” Arthur was surprised.

“You do accommodate him, then?”

“As a master should,” Arthur replied carefully.

“Well, that is all I needed to know. Thank you, Arthur. Forgive me for interrupting your dance with the lovely princess.” He bowed low and left the hall altogether.

***

Arthur and Merlin were the last in the hall.

“Is everything alright, my lord?” Merlin asked, walking over to where Arthur sat brooding over a cup of wine.

“Are we not alone?” Arthur asked, looking up.

Merlin glanced around. “We are.”

“And yet you’re speaking in English.”

“I thought you preferred me to speak in English.”

“No. You’re not English, Merlin.”

Merlin sighed and fell unceremoniously into Arthur’s lap. The king was startled at first but relaxed his hands around Merlin’s waist after a moment.

Merlin switched to Dragon Tongue. “Is everything alright?” He asked again.

Arthur exhaled contentedly as Merlin stroked his soft hair. “It’s Wihtred.”

“Ah. Him.”

“Yes. Has he been bothering you?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“He’s a prince, Merlin. He’s not like Edwin. Pushing him away might not be enough.”

Merlin tensed beneath him and Arthur cursed the wine that caused the slip.

“How do you know I pushed Edwin away?”

“I saw,” Arthur confessed. “I was at the bottom of the stairs.”

“And you just watched.”

“I wanted to be sure you could handle it, like you said you could.”

“He _kissed_ me, Arthur!”

“I know.”

“And you did nothing!”

“I know! I’m sorry.”

“ _And_ you listened to that shit story I told you about being homesick!”

“Merlin, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to—didn’t want to—”

“Reveal your feelings for your manservant,” Merlin supplied angrily. He stood up. “Of course. You know, I’m starting to think Wihtred might not be that bad after all. At least he acknowledges what he does with his servants.”

“You don’t mean that,” Arthur said, hurt.

“I do. I hate the bloke, believe me, I want to rip his heart out and make him choke on it—” Arthur winced at the image. “—but you could learn a thing or two from him.”

“Merlin, no one respects him. Everyone looks down on what he does.”

“Only because of the way in which he does it. He’s completely indiscriminatory. You’ve got morals and standards. He’s like a dog in heat,” Merlin explained.

“We’ve discussed this thousands of times already, Merlin. I thought we’d both come to a decision.”

“We have. But now it’s become a problem. You don’t seem at all upset that someone else tried to—tried to bed me. You probably would have let it happen if it meant keeping us secret.”

“Don’t even for a second think that, Merlin. You know that’s not true.”

It was different before, when he’d thought that Merlin had been willing to go with Edwin, before the struggling started. When that had happened, Arthur had to suppress every urge to keep from running up the stairs and punching Edwin in the face. He’d been willing to go back to his room and wallow in self-pity at Merlin’s lost love, but the moment Merlin showed signs of resistance that all changed.

“I would have stopped it before it went any farther,” Arthur explained. “I wouldn’t have let him do anything.”

It was too much effort to stay angry at Arthur, especially in the midst of such a grand event. With a sigh, he retook his place upon Arthur’s legs.

“Okay, I forgive you. But promise me something,” Merlin said.

“Anything.”

“Don’t let Wihtred ruin the night.”

“Who does he think he is, ordering around other people’s servants?” Arthur yelled, now that he’d been reminded.

“Arthur...”

“Honestly, it’s one thing if it was one of my housekeepers like George. That man needs to relax a bit and Wihtred would be good for him.” Merlin couldn’t help but laugh at that. “But my personal manservant? That’s just—”

“To be fair, Arthur, you _are_ in love with your personal manservant.”

“Even if I wasn’t, if the roles were reversed and I were to ask for Edwin, Wihtred would decline in a heartbeat. There are rules even for this kind of thing.”

“Shh.” Merlin quieted him and caressed his cheek softly. Suddenly, he remembered his mission of bedding Arthur before the end of the week. The intoxication and current circumstances made this the perfect opportunity.

Slowly, he bent his head and kissed Arthur’s forehead. Arthur exhaled contentedly and relaxed his tensed shoulders. Merlin continued trailing kisses down the side of Arthur’s face until finally, he carefully lifted the king’s chin and captured his mouth.

Arthur didn’t fight it. Thank gods for the wine. He let Merlin explore his mouth until he began fidgeting in his seat.

Merlin chuckled. “Getting a bit uncomfortable, are we?”

“Well if _some_ one wasn’t sitting on me I’d be much better,” Arthur retorted and placed his mouth firmly under Merlin’s jaw.

“Mmm. Why don’t we go to your room then?”

Arthur froze, remembering why it was a bad idea that they be doing this.

“We shouldn’t.”

“And yet...”

“I want to.”

“So why aren’t we?”

“What if we’re seen?”

“Everyone’s gone to sleep by now,” Merlin said. “It was a rather tiring night.”

Arthur groaned. “Why must you be so attractive?”

Merlin laughed and stood. “Come on, Arthur, it’s time for bed.”

Arthur followed suit. “I shouldn’t have drank so much. I feel like I should be resisting more. But I can’t seem to care.”

“Good. Keep not caring.” Merlin smiled deliciously and pulled Arthur by the hand.

They were nearly to Arthur’s chambers when Arthur bumped into a table and a vase fell to the floor. It shattered into pieces with a loud noise.

They both winced at the commotion and Merlin quickly put the vase back together with magic.

“Watch where you’re going, yeah?” Merlin chided.

“Sorry. It’s just...you haven’t worn your formal clothes in a while. Have you been to the tailor lately?” Arthur blushed and Merlin raised a curious eyebrow.

“No, why?”

“Your trousers are a bit tight in the back.”

Merlin twisted around to get a better view and he had to hold his hand over his mouth to keep from waking the entire castle with his laughter.

“You bumped into a table because you were staring at my arse?” He said when he had his chuckling under control.

“Shut up, Merlin.”

“Honestly, Arthur, it’s a wonder how you’re such a good king.”

He pushed Merlin against the wall and shut him up with his lips. It was hot and messy and Arthur put his leg between Merlin’s thighs to tease him.

“Oh, gods, Arthur. What are you—”

“I said shut up, Merlin.”

He raised his knee a few inches and felt Merlin’s cock harden. Merlin’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Fuck.”

Arthur ravaged his servant’s mouth and grinded him into the wall in a way that Merlin thought should be illegal. He lifted his right leg and wrapped it around Arthur’s waist, needing to bring him closer.

“Why do you make me do these things, Merlin?”

Merlin didn’t have the energy to laugh. “I don’t make you do anything, sire.”

“We’ll never make it to the bed at this rate.”

“Who’s pressing who against a wall?”

“What if someone saw us?” Arthur continued, ignoring the question. “I think Wihtred already suspects. What if he found out? He’d never let me live it down.”

All the while he was rutting into Merlin, grinding up and down, pushing him into the hard wall, driving Merlin mad with pleasure. He was pretty sure the purring would start soon.

But just then there was a cough from their right and Arthur sprang backwards from his manservant. Wihtred stood with his arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Oh, I think it’s safe to say that Wihtred knows,” the prince said smugly.

Merlin was more interested in finding out just when they’d switched from Dragon Tongue to English, but he couldn’t remember. Probably after Arthur had ran into the table.

Arthur, however, was trying to come up with a reasonable explanation.

“W-Wihtred. Shouldn’t you be—I thought you were asleep,” the king stammered. For a moment, he was a young boy again, caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“I was. And then I heard something break.” He looked around. “But it seems I was mistaken. I came out to investigate and look who I find. Hello, Merlin.”

“H-hello, Wihtred.”

“Informal as ever, I see.”

“M-my lord.” Merlin bowed.

Wihtred just waved a hand. “I see why you were so against his serving me now. You already have a use for him.”

“No, no, no, it’s not like that at all,” Arthur insisted. “It’s just the wine. I don’t usually take advantage of my servants like this.”

“Oh, really?” Somehow Wihtred’s smile got even more obnoxious. “Because based on what I heard, this was not the first time.”

“I—it’s—you don’t understand—”

“Oh, I think I do. Don’t worry, Arthur. Your secret is safe with me.”

Wihtred winked and disappeared around the corner.

Merlin didn’t want to see Arthur worry the whole night about what happened. As soon as Wihtred was gone he sprang into action and pinned Arthur against the wall as he had been.

“Hmrph!”

“Shut up, Arthur.”

Without any further warning, he shoved his hand into Arthur’s breeches and grabbed his stiff cock.

“Fuck’s sake, Merlin, let’s at least get to my room first,” Arthur gasped when his lips were free.

“Good idea.”

They raced to the king’s chambers as quietly as they could, like giggling children who shouldn’t be up late at night running through the halls.

They tore their clothes off impatiently and Merlin had Arthur pinned to the bed in seconds, placing love bites all over his neck and chest.

“Enough foreplay Merlin, I want you now,” Arthur said breathlessly.

Merlin sucked off Arthur’s nipple with an obscene slurping noise and looked up through dark lashes. “I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to fuck me tonight.”

Arthur bit his lip. He thought almost immediately back to his dream the night before and shuddered involuntarily. Why did Merlin have to say it so desperately?

“Please,” he whined. There was no other choice at that point.

He flipped Merlin over quickly and the warlock was momentarily dazed by the sudden change in position. Arthur pulled his legs open and licked his way down to Merlin’s entrance, holding the man’s cock against his stomach with one hand while the other worked to open him up.

Merlin purred then and the sound went straight to Arthur’s prick. Soon enough he was ready for oil and he stood to get it. Merlin whined at the loss of sensation.

After grabbing the oil, he looked to the table and picked up his crown as an afterthought.

“Here, put this on,” he told Merlin.

Merlin held the royal headpiece in his hand, unsure. “Your crown?”

“Go ahead. Try it on.”

Slowly, Merlin placed it on his head, and Arthur sucked his bottom lip at the resemblance to his dream. Merlin looked downright irresistible with the sign of authority upon him.

“How do I look?”

Arthur exhaled. “Fucking perfect.”

He slicked his cock with oil quickly and positioned himself between Merlin’s inviting legs.

But he was going too slow. “Come on, Arthur, please. I need you inside me now.”

Without needing any more encouragement, he pushed in until he was buried deep inside his manservant’s hot arse.

“Fuck me, Arthur.”

The king’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if Merlin knew exactly what he’d dreamed.

He started moving his hips back and forth first slowly, then gradually gained speed. Feeling Arthur thick inside him, filling him up like old times, made Merlin’s vision fuzzy.

“OH _GODS_! YES!” He shouted in ecstasy.

Arthur put his hand over Merlin’s mouth. “Quiet, or you’ll wake all of Camelot.” But he was honestly happy that Merlin had remained human enough to voice his pleasure.

Arthur pulled his hand away when Merlin seemed to have calmed down. “Sorry,” he apologised. “I don’t know what came over me. Must be the wine.”

The king resumed his earlier pace and Merlin had to bite his lip to keep from screaming out. The man purred louder than Arthur had ever heard before, and that, combined with his royal appearance in the crown, could only hold him for so long.

Merlin pulled Arthur down by his shoulders so that their chests were flush against each other. He dug his nails into Arthur’s back as the friction of his cock between their stomachs slowly undid him.

Arthur came first, but Merlin was only seconds behind. He collapsed on his side next to Merlin and they both lay breathing heavily for a while. The night caught up with Arthur and he soon fell asleep, still covered in both his and Merlin’s come.

“Arthur?”

The king snored. Merlin chuckled and with a wave of his hand cleaned them up. He slipped out from under him and dressed. He nearly forgot to take the crown off, but remembered at the last second and placed it gently back on the table.

“Sleep well, my king,” he said as he shut the door behind him.


	4. Day Four: Council Meeting

Arthur woke naked on top of his blankets. His first thought upon finding himself in such a state was, _Where’s Merlin?_

He placed his hand where his lover’s body should have been. It was cold.

Then he noticed his clothes lying neglected on the floor. His _formal_ clothes.

All the memories of the previous night came flooding back, made worse by a pounding headache.

He groaned. Wihtred had said he’d keep Arthur’s secret safe, but he was sure to be intolerable. Arthur could already see the knowing smirk in his mind’s eye.

Just then, Merlin entered carrying breakfast and placed it on the table, completely ignoring Arthur’s nakedness.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Merlin said cheerily. “I was worried I might have brought this up for nothing. Did you sleep well?”

He went straight into cleaning the room, starting with the rumpled clothing on the floor.

“I did,” Arthur replied, rubbing his eyes.

“That’s good. Oh, I almost forgot.” Merlin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a vial of yellow liquid. He chucked it on the bed next to Arthur. “That’s from Gaius. For the headache.”

Arthur downed the potion eagerly. “Ah. Thank you, Merlin. I assume you had some as well? You seem...chipper this morning.”

Merlin stopped mid-fold and turned to face the king. “Just glad to have been thoroughly fucked, sire.”

That certainly took Arthur by surprise. He was left in speechless shock as Merlin just smiled and continued his work. Arthur laid perched on his elbows for a moment, watching Merlin tidy the room. Finally, Merlin spun on his heels and fixed his gaze on his master.

“Alright, why are you staring at me?”

“You planned it, didn’t you?”

“Planned what?”

“Last night. You knew I wouldn’t be able to last the week and now you’re smug about it.”

One side of Merlin’s mouth turned up in a crooked smile. “I didn’t plan _every_ thing. I certainly didn’t plan getting pissed or Wihtred interrupting.” He blushed. “I also didn’t think you’d take me or make me wear your crown. But I _have_ missed you.”

Remembering the tight muscle clenched around him made his cock twitch and Merlin noticed the slight flush that coloured the king’s cheeks. To Arthur’s annoyance, the servant laughed. Then he turned serious and started walking toward him with a grin that made Arthur’s heart race.

“It was a long night, you know,” he said, setting the clothes down gently on the table. “Most of the castle is still asleep. I’m sure we have time, if you’d like another go.”

Arthur was definitely hardening now and Merlin was crawling up on the bed, kissing his way up Arthur’s leg to the tip of his cock.

“Or perhaps you’d just like it if I sucked you off?”

Merlin licked a stripe up Arthur’s prick and the king shivered.

“Y-yeah. Please.”

He saw no other choice, considering he was already bare and at attention beneath the man. And Merlin was talented; he could make Arthur come in no time.

Merlin pursed his lips and slid them slowly down Arthur’s length. Arthur’s hands gripped the blanket as his manservant pleased him with his skilful tongue. The sorcerer moved his hand to cup Arthur’s tight balls and his king moaned in pleasure, his back arching high up off the bed.

“Gods yes, Merlin.”

Merlin picked up the speed, knowing Arthur wanted to make this quick. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked as hard as he could without hurting the man with his teeth. The resulting sounds were hot and wet and sent Arthur reeling into ecstasy. Without meaning to, he started thrusting his hips forward into Merlin’s talented mouth, making pitiful whining noises in the back of his throat.

“Yeah—fuck yeah, Merlin—yes, fuck— _fuck_.”

“Mmph!”

He came hard down Merlin’s throat and was still going when Merlin pulled off. A glob of come painted Merlin’s cheek and dripped down his mouth and chin.

“Shit, sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin licked the area around his lips and wiped his face with his hand, bringing it to his mouth and licking that clean too. Arthur’s eyes popped.

“It’s alright,” Merlin replied. “I thought you were done. It lasted a bit longer than usual.”

Arthur laid back with a sigh. “It’s...been awhile since you’ve done that. It’s always—seeing you like that, with your mouth around me—”

“You like it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I love it.”

Merlin was silent a moment and Arthur closed his eyes, basking in the moment. He snapped them open when Merlin placed a gentle kiss to his softening cock.

“Yes, well. You’d better get dressed. You have a long day ahead of you,” the servant advised.

Arthur sat straight up. “That’s right! Today is the first day of the council.”

“It is.” Merlin stood up and went to wash his face properly with a cloth; it was still a bit sticky. “Don’t let your breakfast get cold.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as he pulled on his trousers. “You could always warm it up for me.”

“True. But I’ve already done enough things I’m not supposed to this morning.”

“What else have you done?” Arthur asked, his voice muffled by the shirt over his head.

“I, er,” Merlin hesitated.

“Out with it Merlin. Or shall I wring it out of you?” Arthur had snuck up behind his manservant and placed his palm over the aching bulge in front.

Merlin’s breath hitched. “I think you know which I prefer, but there’s no time. There’s so much to prepare for...”

Arthur moved his hand up and down in agonisingly slow circles, pressing his nose into the dip of Merlin’s collarbones.

“What did you do, Merlin?”

Merlin took a deep breath, trying to concentrate his thoughts while Arthur touched him. “I erased Wihtred’s memory.” Arthur froze and he added quickly, “Of us. Of what he saw.”

“You can do that?”

“I very nearly did it to you.”

“You what?!”

Arthur stepped away, immediately upset.

“No, no, it was before—before all of this.” Merlin threw his hands up. “When I first met you, in my cave. It’s what I usually did, to keep my home a secret.”

Arthur relaxed, but not much. “Merlin. You must swear that you will never alter my memory, under any circumstances.”

“I swear, I swear.”

“I mean it, Merlin.”

“So do I.”

Arthur exhaled. “Okay, good. So Wihtred doesn’t know a thing?”

“He might still suspect, but as far as he knows he didn’t hear anything break and slept the whole night through.”

Arthur finally relaxed fully and took his place back close to Merlin. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Merlin.”

Merlin almost said, “Well you wouldn’t live in fear every second of the day,” but he swallowed it. He didn’t want to get into an argument now of all times. Arthur needed to be focused and on point for the day’s events.

Instead Merlin rubbed his erection against Arthur’s thigh and said, “If you don’t finish me in the next two minutes, you’ll find out.”

***

Merlin didn’t usually pace. That was Arthur’s thing. But these were special circumstances. His life literally depended on whatever was happening in that meeting.

Why did Gaius, a silly old man, get to attend? Arthur claimed it was because he was a “trusted advisor” and had an “important perspective because he’d been there before and after the ban,” but was that really it? It sounded like a weak argument to Merlin.

He halted his pacing. This was ridiculous and honestly a bit masochistic. He didn’t _have_ to be fretting outside the council room doors. He could be out in the sun, in the midsummer breeze, where he was meant to be. He could be mucking out the stables, helping in the kitchens, reading, playing his pipe, or taking a nap for fuck’s sake. He didn’t have to be stuck in the corridor driving himself mad with worry.

Then he heard yelling coming from behind the doors. Merlin cringed. It sounded like Cædwalla. And Merlin thought _he_ had a bad temper.

That decided it. He set his jaw firmly and began walking to the courtyard. He really ought to be outside.

***

It was dusk when they agreed to adjourn the meeting for the day and continue tomorrow. They left the hall shaking hands and giving polite, forced, smiles. Arthur felt a lot of progress had been made. As expected, Mercia and Northumbria were all for returning magic, but surprisingly, so was Kent. Arthur figured it had something to do with the fact that Prince Wihtred was an open-minded individual, and though the man had grown up without magic, he didn’t like narrow-minded thinking. The King of Kent, however, might have a different opinion, but Wihtred was sure he could bring his father round easily enough.

That left only Wessex. Cædwalla was the oldest among all the rulers, the oldest guest in attendance. He’d seen what damage sorcery could do and was a firm believer in Uther’s execution policy. Arthur didn’t want to make any decisions without unanimous agreement, and nobody wanted to go to war, but Cædwalla wasn’t going to give up traditional ways so quickly.

He returned to his chambers rubbing his shoulders. He’d sat in one position for so long and was hoping he’d find Merlin ready to massage his tensed muscles. But he couldn’t find the man anywhere.

That could only mean one thing: Merlin was off in the forest.

Arthur wanted to go to him, lay with him under the shade of the trees, content in his arms. He wanted to stop being a king for an hour or two so he could just relax with his lover. But there was no time for such indulgences. It would be supper soon and then, as it should have been the night before, he would go to his large, lonely bed by himself.

Arthur stopped the closest servant, George.

“George!”

The housekeeper turned around. “Yes, sire?”

“Find Gwaine and tell him to bring Merlin back from wherever it is he’s gone off to this time.” Arthur made sure to sound more annoyed than worried.

George bowed. “At once, sire.”

Arthur walked leisurely to his chambers and changed into something more comfortable. He’d have to change again in a couple hours for supper but he couldn’t be bothered with that at the moment. The day had been stressful and he just wanted to lay back, relax, and listen to Merlin tell him that everything would be fine while adept hands kneaded the muscles in his back.

Two out of four wasn’t bad, but Arthur still knit his brow. He’d been on edge since Merlin talked of leaving and was getting paranoid. Part of him wasn’t asking in jest that morning. What _would_ he do without Merlin? He could never go back to the way things were before, and he was almost certain that the same could be said for his beloved cave-boy.

Gwaine’s voice pierced Arthur’s thoughts. “Delivery for the king,” he announced, opening the chamber doors.

The knight nudged in a bright-eyed, pink-cheeked Merlin and Arthur tried not to let the depths of his relief show on his face.

“Playing with rabbits,” Gwaine said. “Would you believe it? _Rabbits_.” He chuckled and tousled Merlin’s hair, shaking bits of leaves and grass out of the dark mop.

Merlin rolled his eyes and let Gwaine mess with him. “I don’t see what’s not to believe.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t, being the scrawny thing that you are. Knights on the other hand, send the little creatures running.” Gwaine chuckled again. “They probably mistook you for one of their own.”

“I’m not scrawny!” Merlin protested and looked to Arthur for confirmation.

Arthur watched the exchange in amusement and help up his hands to mean, “Hey, I’m not in this.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Merlin. Some people are born to be hunters and some are meant to be...well, friends with rabbits.” He laughed heartily and turned to leave. “Try not to hurt this one too much, Arthur. He’s only tiny.”

Gwaine left and Arthur finally spoke, raising a bemused eyebrow. “Rabbits, Merlin? Really?”

“It’s not like I searched them out. Honestly. I was laying there, half-asleep, when I feel something nibbling my shoe, and when I open my eyes I see this large brown rabbit right by my feet,” he explained. “I put out my hand and it started nibbling my fingers, so I just pet it a bit. Then others—its family I suppose—showed up and so I pet them too. That’s when Gwaine came running and sent them all scurrying.” He held out his palms. “So you see, I wasn’t really _playing_ with them, just sort of laying about.”

Arthur chuckled and stood. “It’s alright Merlin, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. I was just making fun.” He licked his thumb and wiped away a speck of dirt on Merlin’s cheek.

“Ugh, _Ar_ thur,” Merlin groaned and wiped the wetness away with his sleeve.

Arthur just laughed. When Merlin was done being thoroughly embarrassed—though luckily Gwaine was long gone and hadn’t seen it—he brushed any remaining dirt from his clothes and focused on the king.

“So what did you need me for?”

Arthur pulled his white tunic over his head and Merlin’s eyes got comically wide.

“I need your magic hands.”

***

Merlin kicked a rock and stared up at the waning moon, barely listening to the talking Isaac beside him. He didn’t know why he agreed to go out to the tavern with him. Merlin’s one tavern experience hadn’t ended well and he wasn’t eager for a repeat. Since then, he’d learned the siren song of ale and how to resist against it. One cup and he was through. Done.

Three cups later he found himself laughing hysterically with Isaac about the ridiculous way some of the other servants acted, particularly the desperate kitchen maids.

“And Helena, the wench, bends over double what she needs to just to pick up this one fallen plate!” Isaac was saying. “She thinks because one knight bed her—drunk as a sailor, I might add—she’s irresistible. Ha! It’s as if she’s never looked in a mirror.”

Merlin took a swig and agreed. “The looks she gives some of those dukes are fierce enough to kill.”

“Evelyn on the other hand,” Isaac whistled. “She’s going down in history for how many blokes she’s known. The longest, most beautiful golden hair I ever saw, I tell you.” He winked knowingly. “Apart from your mate, that is.”

Merlin giggled and ended up snorting. That threw him into another fit of laughter and Isaac joined in.

“Hey, don’t look now, but I think that fellow across the room is giving you the once-over,” Isaac whispered.

Merlin of course, immediately turned to look and saw a familiar-looking servant staring directly at him.

Isaac tugged his arm and Merlin turned around. “I said not to look!”

“I know him. He’s a servant for one of the guests.”

“Not just any guest,” Isaac lowered his voice conspiratorially. “He works for Princess Mithian. He tends to her horses.”

“Either way, I’m not interested in him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Merls. Look, I don’t know what exactly happened with Edwin—” Merlin held back a snarl at the name. “—but you’ve got a perfectly good second chance right across the room.”

Merlin took a few deep breaths before answering. “Isaac. Mate. I know you mean well, but you’ve got to stop this. Quit trying to pair me up with people I have no interest in getting involved with.”

Isaac leaned back and held up his palms. “Alright. I get the message. I’ll back off.” He downed the rest of his drink. “But you can’t lust after Pendragon forever. Odds are you’ll serve him until you die and you don’t want to spend all that time chasing after something you can’t have.”

Merlin gave a crooked smile and finished his ale as well, then stood up. “You let me worry about me, okay?”

“Alright then.”

***

Merlin halted. “Stop,” he told Isaac, and stilled him with a hand.

“Whatsit?”

“I heard something.”

“I hear lots of somethings. It’s called being outside, Merlin,” Isaac joked.

“No. More like, I heard someone following us.” He turned around and saw a shadow retreat behind a house. “There.”

He motioned for Isaac to stay put, and, rolling his eyes, Isaac complied. He walked silently to where he’d seen the shadow disappear and slowly inched ever so closer...

“Aha!”

He grabbed the collar of some young boy with wide, scared eyes. It was Princess Mithian’s horse handler.

“Why are you following me?” Merlin demanded.

“I—I just want to—to ask for a favour, sir,” the boy stuttered.

Isaac, seeing Merlin holding a prize, had walked up to join them.

“‘Sir?’ What’s this ‘sir’ business? Merlin’s a servant just like you and I.”

“I know, but he’s—he’s older than me and—and I was taught—”

“Enough, already. What’s this favour you need from me?” Merlin hurried him. “And quit stammering, I don’t bite.”

“It’s my Lady, sir. The Princess. She—I overheard her talking with her maid. She wants to marry the king. She finds him very handsome and noble.”

Isaac chuckled darkly. “Oh, boy.”

Merlin, the breath knocked out of him, let go of the collar he forgot he’d been holding and nearly dropped to his knees.

The Princess. Wanted to marry. Arthur. _His_ Arthur.

The boy took Merlin’s shocked silence as an opportunity to continue. “She hasn’t ordered me to or anything, but seeing as you’re the king’s manservant I was hoping maybe you could possibly hint at the suggestion of...”

Merlin didn’t stay for the rest of the request. He stormed back to the castle, resisting every urge to break into a desperate run.

He went straight to Arthur’s room. No knocking, no warning, just slammed open the door and locked it shut with magic behind him.

Arthur was sitting looking over some papers when Merlin so rudely entered. He stood and fixed Merlin with an incredulous stare. “Merlin, what are you—”

He stopped short when he saw the rage in his servant’s eyes. This was not his Merlin.

He didn’t resist when Merlin yanked him by the wrist, only cried out from the sharp pain of fingernails digging into his skin. Merlin spun him around and pushed him against his desk, bent him over roughly and pulled Arthur’s trousers down with enough force to rip the seams.

Arthur couldn’t protest. His voice was trapped in his lungs, stunned into silence as this monster in his lover’s body spread his arse apart and shoved inside. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. He dimly recalled Merlin licking his hand and pumping his cock once or twice, but he’d entered otherwise dry.

His cheek was pressed against the rough wood of his working desk, his hands gripping for purchase on either side of his head as Merlin thrust into him hard enough to make the table legs squeak across the floor. Some part of him registered whimpering noises and he realised later that they were coming from him. And Arthur started crying.

He loved when Merlin fucked him, loved when Merlin lost control and gripped him so hard it left bruises. But this wasn’t Merlin.

His hole burned. It felt raw and ripped and Merlin kept thrusting into it, claiming it over and over again.

At some point, Arthur went limp and surrendered himself to his manservant. He hadn’t the energy to hold himself up or even care that Merlin was taking him so roughly. His eyes clouded over and he let himself be handled like a ragdoll.

That is, until he felt a sharp pain on his back. Merlin had ripped Arthur’s tunic to reveal his bare skin and was digging his nails into the flesh.

“Merlin, please!” Arthur begged with the last of his strength.

The pain continued. He felt droplets of blood slide down his back and around his chest. The window curtains whipped furiously from the magic in the air.

Why was Merlin doing this? Just a couple hours ago he’d served Arthur at supper and he seemed fine. Now he was bending Arthur over and fucking him like a dog marking his territory.

It stopped as abruptly as it began. He felt Merlin throb his climax inside him and pull out painfully. When he finally had the strength to stand up straight and look around, Merlin was gone.

Arthur walked awkwardly to the mirror across the room, wiping tears from his eyes. He turned and stared at the bleeding word carved into his back: MINE.


	5. Day Five: Council Meeting

When Merlin walked into Arthur’s room the next morning, Arthur wasn’t in his bed. In fact, the bed was perfectly made and the room was nearly spotless.

Merlin swallowed the rising lump in his throat. “Arthur?”

He went to the desk and ran his finger along the edge. There were papers scattered about like he’d been interrupted while working. Then he saw a single drop of blood on a piece of parchment.

He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

He stepped back. What happened last night? He was drinking with Isaac, he left, he saw Princess Mithian’s servant, and then...and then...

Merlin gasped. “No!”

He looked at his hands, needing proof, evidence that he hadn’t done something so terrible. But there was blood caked under his fingernails, blood from when he sunk his claws into Arthur’s flesh and—

“NO!”

He couldn’t have. But he did. And now Arthur was gone, too frightened of him to even sleep in his own bed.

“What have I done?”

Merlin didn’t think, just crossed to the window and pushed the glass open. He didn’t care if he landed with a big splat and all the guests started screaming at his corpse. He didn’t care that Gaius would find him and be the one responsible for his body. He didn’t know if servants were buried, burned, or even given a funeral at all, but he didn’t care.

He sat with his legs out the window, dangling high above the ground. The height made Merlin’s vision blur. It didn’t matter. In a minute nothing would matter.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, letting his fingers grasp the air...

Arms wrapped around his chest and he was pulled inside, landing clumsily on his backside. The glass window closed shut.

Breathless, Merlin stared up at a gaunt looking Arthur. There were shadows under his eyes, he was shirtless, and his royal trousers were ripped and barely clinging to his body. Merlin knew he was the cause of the king’s appearance, but Arthur was looking down at Merlin with such worry, such concern.

“Arthur!”

“Merlin, don’t you ever do something like that again.”

Merlin gulped. “I thought you’d—because I—”

“Thought I what?”

“I don’t know. Oh gods, I don’t know!” Merlin cried. “Arthur, you know I didn’t—Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it—”

“Merlin.” Arthur kneeled down and took Merlin in his arms. “Merlin, I know. I’m not upset.” _Just frightened beyond all belief._ “I forgive you. Just tell me what happened.”

“It’s...” He was going to lie and say “Nothing,” but Arthur warned him against it with a glance. “I was pissed.”

“You were pissed,” Arthur echoed. “How? When?”

“With Isaac. We went to the tavern.”

“Merlin, you don’t _go_ to taverns.”

“Well, I did last night. And now I really do swear to never go to one again.”

“Okay, so you were pissed. Did Isaac do something, say anything? Like with Edwin?”

Merlin shook his head. “No.”

“So what happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” Arthur stared at Merlin until the warlock looked up. “Merlin, don’t lie to me.”

Merlin swallowed hard. “There was a servant. Princess Mithian’s stable boy. He wanted me to—to—”

“To what, Merlin?”

“She likes you,” Merlin said in a rush. “She wants to marry you.”

Arthur let go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “That explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Merlin, how much do you remember from last night?”

“Arthur, don’t make me relive—”

“Just tell me.”

Merlin closed his eyes and sighed. “I was talking to the boy. Then somehow I got here. Then I—I bent you over—on the desk—and I—” He couldn’t say it. “Then I dug my nails into your back and I finished. Then I was back in my room..” He opened his eyes. “That’s it, right? Please tell me that’s it.”

Arthur took a deep breath. Merlin was not going to like this. “Merlin, do you remember what you did to my back?”

“I made it bleed.” He held up his bloody fingernails as proof.

“Alright. I’m going to show you, but don’t—don’t get upset, okay? Do you promise?”

Merlin nodded. Arthur stood and slowly turned around.

A stifled sob escaped Merlin’s throat and Arthur spun back around.

“I’m not upset. I’m not upset.” But it sounded more like Merlin was trying to convince himself.

Merlin didn’t know what he was. He felt terrible for marking Arthur’s flawless skin like that, but another part of him was thrilled. The cuts weren’t deep enough to scar forever, but Merlin would always know that he’d claimed Arthur for his own.

And finding satisfaction from that alone made Merlin feel even worse.

“Good.” Arthur walked up to Merlin and rubbed his arms. “Because it’s fine, Merlin. Everything’s fine. Remember what I said before: if this is the price of being with you, I’m more than willing to pay it. I love you, Merlin.”

“That’s not right, Arthur. You shouldn’t have to—”

“Don’t worry about it. I mean it.” He kissed Merlin’s damp forehead and released him after making sure the servant seemed okay. “What’s not right is that I don’t have breakfast in front of me.”

That sent Merlin hurrying off quick enough.

With Merlin gone, Arthur let the pretence slip and sank to the floor. He could never tell Merlin that he’d stayed up the whole night, rocking back and forth on the floor under his desk. Or that he’d thought long and hard about how he would disguise the pain in his arse whenever he walked today. Or the worry he felt at the thought that Merlin might leave after having done something so terrible.

He didn’t dare go to Gaius for anything—not healing cream, not a sleeping draught, nothing. And he certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not that there was anybody he _could_ tell. Gwaine, maybe, but he had a tendency to overreact. And the news would break him for sure, the big softie. So Arthur resolved to endure the pain alone.

But wasn’t this supposed to be getting better? The plan had been for Merlin to develop more control, but the longer he stayed in Camelot, the more the opposite seemed to be happening. It was as if Merlin’s inner animal was refusing to be tamed, forcing itself to be recognised in the few moments of anger that Merlin couldn’t handle. Merlin was happy in nature, and less on edge, less inclined to get upset. In the walls of Camelot it was like the smallest of things set Merlin off. Maybe...

No. Arthur would take a thousand bloody noses, a million aching arses if it meant that Merlin stayed with him. He would not let Merlin go back to the cave. He would _not_ let Merlin leave him.

***

Merlin was going to leave.

He’d wait until the end of the week and sneak out with the rest of the departing servants. From there he didn’t know where he’d go. Find a new cave maybe. He couldn’t go back to his old one; that was the first place Arthur would look.

His father was right. He never should have left. Merlin didn’t understand before, when Balinor said it was dangerous. He didn’t mean just for Merlin, he meant for them too. The rest of the world. Merlin himself was dangerous.

Three days, three nights. He just had to put on a smile and go about his normal duties for three days and three nights, then he could run away and never come back, never hurt Arthur or anyone else again.

Merlin was going to leave.

***

Arthur was dressed and his usual composed self when Merlin returned with breakfast. Both made the effort to pretend that the events of the previous night had not occurred. Arthur felt he need only mention one thing.

“So you _can_ be jealous. I see that now. But remember what I told you then? I won’t marry anyone without your permission. Even if I did think of Mithian that way—which I don’t—I wouldn’t ask for her hand without consulting you first. Just so you know.”

He said no more on the subject and continued eating. Merlin likewise didn’t press it. He didn’t like the thought of Arthur having to marry anyone if it wasn’t him (though that was utterly ridiculous) and he correctly assumed that Arthur felt the same. But it was one of those things of the court that he would never understand.

Merlin spent the majority of the day outside and made sure to return right at dusk so that Gwaine wouldn’t have to fetch him. Again, Merlin soothed Arthur’s aching muscles from the long day sitting. He wanted to ask if his arse hurt all that much but thought better of it.

Instead, he asked what he’d been thinking about all day.

“So, what was the decision?”

Arthur stretched and yawned under Merlin’s kneading hands. “Decision on what?”

“Oh, come on, Arthur.”

It was enough that he had to look down at his handiwork from the night before, the word MINE staring accusingly up at him. Now Arthur wanted to joke around and draw out the suspense?

“They said no.”

Merlin froze and sputtered. “Th-they what?!”

Arthur laughed. “Only kidding. They said yes. Magic will return to the kingdoms.”

Merlin slapped Arthur playfully on the head and Arthur feigned hurt.

“I thought you’d be happy.”

“I _am_ happy, you clotpole.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“Funny way of letting me know I won’t be killed for lighting a simple fire.”

“I thought you’d think so.”

“That was a _joke_.”

“Not a very funny one then, was it?”

But Arthur had his head turned to the side, resting his cheek on his crossed forearms, and smiling up at Merlin with that bright sparkle in his eyes.

“I did it, Merlin,” he whispered, his voice serious again, but his smile widening. “I really did it. I brought magic back to Camelot.”

Merlin stared back proudly and played with the hair at the nape of Arthur’s neck.

“You did. Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur rolled to prop himself up on one elbow and pulled Merlin down into a kiss. He squeezed his hand.

“Now we can work on what you wanted most. We can focus on us.”

Merlin swallowed. “Right. Us.”

And during supper that night, after watching Merlin stare daggers at Mithian for the better part of an hour, he pulled him into the corridor and took his breath away with a passionate kiss.

“Just so we’re clear on who I belong to,” Arthur whispered and returned to the meal.


	6. Day Six: Jousting

Arthur wasn’t going to joust. He couldn’t tell the truth, that his manservant had taken him so hard his arse was still sore two days later, so he simply said that he wasn’t up to it, and nobody—not even Cædwalla—questioned him.

Instead, to Merlin’s extreme annoyance, he sat in the observation area with Mithian. Merlin assisted other lords with their equipment and tried not to pay too much attention to the pair of them.

“It’s turning out to be a nice summer,” Mithian commented after the first knights collided.

“It is. Are summers in Northumbria not as pleasant?” Arthur asked out of courtesy.

“Not nearly so much as these in Camelot, to be sure.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I was worried nobody would be able to get back to the celebratory mood after the seriousness of the past two days.”

“I think all but Cædwalla were happy with the outcome,” Mithian remarked. “It will take him awhile to accept it, but he’s been outnumbered. Even his army is no match for all of ours.” She giggled coquettishly then. “Look at him!”

Arthur tore his eyes away from Merlin’s long fingers screwing in a duke’s pauldrons and looked to the king of Wessex. The angry man was staring in the direction of the prepared knights but his eyes were unfocused. His brow was furrowed and he was not content.

Arthur gave an appropriate smile. “Old men cling to old traditions.”

“And young men bring forth the new.”

She squeezed his hand and he looked instantly back to Merlin. The servant was still busy with the duke’s armour and hadn’t noticed.

“That is what I hope to achieve. A more open-minded, accepting world.”

“You have done, Arthur.”

Arthur politely extracted his hand and folded them in his lap. “No. No, this is just the beginning.”

***

“Arthur.”

The king looked up from his potatoes. He hadn’t realised he’d been staring down into them so intently until Mithian called his name beside him.

“Yes?”

“You don’t seem yourself today.”

The whole party had noticed it, but had gone on as usual. Arthur seemed sombre, yet there was all the reason to rejoice. Mithian was the only one in a position to ask what was wrong.

“I am as much myself as I was yesterday and the day before, I assure you.”

Mithian dared to rest her hand on his forearm and looked into his eyes with deep concern. Arthur flinched slightly, and the princess noticed it.

“Are you quite positive, my king?”

Merlin appeared from nowhere. “More wine, sire?” He said icily, determinedly _not_ looking at Mithian’s trespassing hand.

“Y-yes, thank you, Merlin,” Arthur replied, not meeting the servant’s gaze.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” Mithian asked again.

Arthur watched as the wine flowed generously into his cup and in an awkward moment, lifted his eyes to see Merlin staring straight at him. Merlin’s expression had softened and it seemed to beg Arthur to say that no, everything was not alright, and that it was all Merlin’s fault. At least then Merlin would feel less guilty. To think that Arthur was holding back the pain for his sake was unbearable.

Arthur dropped his eyes and Merlin stepped back, the cup full to the brim. “I’m sure.”

As soon as Merlin walked away to serve another guest, Mithian squeezed his arm. “You must tell me. It’s something to do with Merlin, isn’t it?”

Arthur’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wh-what makes you think that?”

“I’m not blind, Arthur. I’m a _woman_. We know these things.” She didn’t say it smugly like others might, but as if it were a burden one must bear. “Whatever happened just a moment ago, it brought back that sad look to your eyes. Tell me, Arthur, and I’ll help you.”

Arthur’s chest tightened. He yearned for someone to talk to, someone who would listen to him about Merlin and consult him on how to deal with the problems. But that person couldn’t be Mithian.

“I can’t.”

“You can, Arthur. Trust me, please.”

“Mithian, I want to. I do. But—”

“Oh gods.” She brought her hand to her mouth. “You’re scared, aren’t you? I can see it written all over your face.”

Arthur made an effort to compose himself and dug into his meal with added vigour. He was not going to be pitied by a princess.

“Forget it, Mithian,” he said firmly.

She withdrew her hand from Arthur’s arm and returned to her own food.

“I will let the matter drop for now, Arthur Pendragon, but I will not forget it. There’s only one thing that can strike such fear into the hearts of men.”

Arthur waited for her to say what it was, but evidently she wanted him to ask. He gave in.

“What would that be?”

“Love.”

***

Merlin began to pack. He wasn’t going to take much, just the essentials. He didn’t want to bring anything with him that reminded him of Camelot. He wanted to be able to disappear without a trace and live completely and utterly alone.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t true. He was going to visit Will and everyone else in Ealdor first, but not for long. Then he was going back underground. Deep deep _deep_ underground.

While most of the castle slept, Merlin studied maps. There were only so many mountain ranges to choose from. There were sure to be more caves around than the ones under mountains, but he figured he had to start somewhere. Picking the right cave was serious business.

He was struggling to keep his eyes open when there was a knock on the door. He looked over at Gaius, who was sleeping soundly on his cot by the dying fire. With a sigh, he rolled up his maps and went to greet the late-night visitor.

Merlin was surprised. “Mithian? What are you doing here?” Then, realising he must have sounded quite rude, appended, “I mean, are you unwell? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

The princess peered in and noticed the sleeping physician. “I can’t sleep.”

“I’ll give you something to—”

“No, no, it’s fine. I wish to speak with you, actually.”

“Now? It’s late...”

“What I wish to speak about is...a bit private.”

Merlin glanced over his shoulder. “Okay. Is, um, my room alright?” He couldn’t believe he’d just invited a princess into his chambers. But then he _was_ fucking a king.

“Out in the corridor should be safe enough.”

Merlin nodded and closed the door behind him. “What’s the matter?”

The princess wrapped her shawl more tightly around her against the chill in the midsummer night breeze. “It’s Arthur.”

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. “What about him?”

“I’m not sure. He won’t tell me.” Merlin stared at her blankly and she continued. “I was hoping you would.”

“M-me? Why would I know what’s wrong with him?”

“You’re his manservant. Surely you know more about him than he does himself.”

“No, you’ve misunderstood. I only dress him and serve him—”

“Quit the act, Merlin. It took me five days to see it and it’s only a matter of time before everyone else does if he doesn’t cheer up soon.”

Merlin winced. “You know about us?”

“I didn’t know for sure, but now I do.”

“That’s so manipulative!”

“You haven’t had much experience with women, have you?”

Merlin exhaled with frustration. She was smart, luring Merlin into admittance like that. But he wasn’t going to give up the information so readily.

“It’s between him and me. We’ve had a...disagreement of sorts. We’re working on it,” he lied.

“You’re a terrible liar, Merlin. Tell me what’s really wrong. I’m only trying to help.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No.” Merlin shook his head, fighting the lump rising in his throat just thinking about it. “I mean, I really really can’t. Good night, Princess.”

He disappeared back inside before she could say anything else.


	7. Day Seven: Performances and Dancing

Not all attended the plays which were to take place during the last day of the event. Some went into the town and bought trinkets for family members back home, others went to the tavern, and some chose to relax in their chambers until supper and the second ball that night. Arthur was present for some of the performances, and Merlin was glad, for he missed the first play and wanted to see one before he left the city forever.

He was not glad that Arthur sat next to Mithian. Again.

Mithian had turned out to surprise him. She knew about their relationship, and yet had not said anything, even seemed to be okay with it. Merlin wasn’t sure if that meant she was still going to try to marry him or not, but it probably did, so it paid to be at least somewhat watchful. And she wanted to help them, which was very nice of her, but Merlin suspected that if she knew the truth, that it was his fault Arthur was hurt, she might feel differently.

He tried to catch some of what they were whispering as they watched the play but couldn’t make it out over the strong, booming voices of the actors.

“I spoke with Merlin last night.”

Arthur went pale. “You did?”

“I did. I told him I knew about the two of you.”

His neck nearly snapped at having turned so quickly. “You do?”

“I told you, Arthur. We women know these things.” This time she did say it with a smug grin. It wasn’t nearly as obnoxious as Wihtred’s but it was a close second.

“And what—what did he say?”

Her expression turned sour. “He wouldn’t tell me why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset.” He turned back to face the performance.

“Just tell me, Arthur.”

“It’s—it’s rather embarrassing.”

“Oh.” Mithian’s cheeks mirrored Arthur’s blush and Merlin really stretched to hear something, anything. “Is that, er, why you wouldn’t joust yesterday?”

Arthur reddened even more so. “No.”

Mithian chuckled. “It was, wasn’t it?” Arthur sighed, signalling defeat. This woman was too smart. “So you, uh, aren’t usually the one to...”

“No, I am, but this time was—I can’t believe we’re talking about this. We’re _not_ talking about this.”

“Oh. _Oh_. Oh gods, Arthur, you should have told me sooner.”

Arthur tried to sink deeper into his seat and put his face in his hand. “No, no. Just—just stop.”

“Arthur, I’m a woman. I know all about these sorts of things.”

“Mithian, really, I appreciate the concern, but I’m honestly fine.”

“No, you’re honestly not. You’re hurting. Merlin’s hurting.”

“I forgave him. Everything is fine.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“I’ve been trying not to,” Arthur muttered.

“You look like a corpse. A handsome corpse,” she added quickly. “But it’s obvious something is wrong. I told Merlin the same. If you don’t want people asking questions, you had better perk up a bit.”

“I’m trying, Mithian. I really am.”

“Try harder. You need someone to talk to. Someone that isn’t Merlin. Talk to me, Arthur.”

Arthur gulped and glanced over at the princess beside him. She was watching the play but her face poorly masked the concern in its features.

“Alright, fine. I’ll talk to you.” Anything to get her to leave him alone until tomorrow.

They watched the remainder of the play then went to their separate rooms. Arthur gave Merlin the rest of the day off to go do as he pleased in the forest and twenty minutes later, Mithian knocked on his chamber doors.

“Enter.”

She had let her hair down and it flowed halfway down her back. For a moment Arthur thought her beautiful.

Mithian sat at the table while Arthur sat at the foot of his bed.

“Tell me everything.”

He did.

***

“Can I see it?” Mithian asked.

Arthur stood and pulled off his tunic. He didn’t see why not. He’d already told her the worst of it.

She gasped. Arthur flinched when he felt her cold hands run over the healing scars.

“What disturbs me the most,” he said, “is that he did it in English. Like he knew someone would see it and he wanted to be sure they understood.”

“Does it still hurt?”

Arthur turned and put his shirt back on. “I can sleep on my back again. I couldn’t at first.”

“Arthur, you have to do something.”

“Like what?” The king snapped. “I love him too much to send him away. Too much than is good for me. I know that. But I can’t live without him. It may be weak, it may be pathetic, but I’m going to get through this. I’m going to deal with whatever he throws my way because I have to.” His voice took on a tone of desperation and he nearly sobbed. “I have to.”

Mithian put a hand to his cheek. “Oh, Arthur.”

“No!” He swatted her hand away. “Don’t. It’s because of that that he’s done it in the first place. All because you said you wanted to marry me.”

The princess pulled away, hurt. Arthur was filled with remorse instantly.

“I didn’t mean that,” he said softer, grabbing her hands. “It’s not your fault. It’s—it’s mine. I didn’t make it clear that I wasn’t interested in you. I let you believe—let Merlin believe—it’s all my fault. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Arthur. You still don’t understand.” Mithian looked sad and that was exactly what Arthur had wanted to avoid, that look of pity. “It’s never your fault. You don’t have to put yourself through hell for this man that hurts you. There are others out there for you. And I don’t necessarily mean me.”

Arthur sighed and let go of her hands. “I think it’s best you left now. Thank you for—for listening.”

“Arthur.”

“Please, Mithian.”

“Okay. But try to get some rest before the ball. I don’t fancy dancing with corpses.”

Arthur smiled politely. “I will.”

She left and Arthur laid in his bed, wincing as his back hit the pillows. She was right. He had to think of something soon, some way to put an end to this once and for all. He thought hard about it and grasped at the only hope he saw.

Merlin had been fine before the celebration. It was simply because of all these triggers that he kept losing control. Yes, that was it. Things would go back to normal when everyone left.

But could Arthur handle living in fear everyday? He supposed he could. It was better than being beaten.

He had to hold onto that thought. As long as there was nothing to set Merlin off, everything would be fine.

***

“I know you’ll have to dance with her,” Merlin said as he dressed Arthur in his formal clothes for supper. He hadn’t had time to go to the tailor so his own formal trousers still clung to his arse attractively. “I want you to know that I’m fine with it. I know you have to keep up appearances for the sake of the court. I understand that much now, at least.”

“That’s good.” Arthur took a deep breath. A few days ago he would have done what he was about to do without thinking, but now it took effort. He pulled Merlin closer to him and placed on open palm on each of his servant’s arse cheeks.

“Arthur!”

He picked up on the pleasant surprise in Merlin’s voice and captured his mouth confidently.

“Tonight, Merlin,” Arthur said, coming up for air. “Tonight I want you to sleep with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He kissed Merlin’s neck and the warlock moaned beneath him. “Arthur...”

“And tomorrow, after everyone leaves, I want you to go to the market and get some new trousers. That’s an order.”

“Yes, alright.” But Merlin knew he wouldn’t be in the market or even in the city tomorrow. His heart ached as Arthur’s lips left bruises on his pale skin.

“Now let’s go. Can’t be late, can we?”

Merlin chuckled breathlessly. “Bloody tease is what you are, Arthur Pendragon.”

“I’ll make it up to you tonight. Come on.”

Lucky for Merlin, his formal tunic was longer than his normal one and covered the obvious protrusion of his arousal. Arthur walked to the grand hall as regal as ever, as if nothing had happened only moments before and Merlin envied him of his composure.

The ball was already in full swing but nobody missed them. Wihtred was seated next to Mithian and for once Arthur was glad for the man’s presence. He wasn’t in the mood to be subject to Mithian’s pity. He just wanted to get through the rest of the night without any more mishaps and emotional trauma.

Arthur took his place at the table. A plate of food was set out for each chair present but nobody had sat in the seat next to Arthur’s. It was usually reserved for the princess, but seeing as how Wihtred had invited her to dine with him, it was empty. Arthur didn’t mind. He was content to eat in peace with Merlin ready to fill his glass every so often.

The king was surprised when he reached the bottom of his cup and it hadn’t been filled yet. He looked up at Merlin to see the man mouthing words to someone across the room. It was his servant friend, Isaac.

Merlin was making motions with his hands, telling Isaac to quit it, that he was fine and that he didn’t feel like being social tonight. But Isaac was being insistent.

Arthur nudged Merlin. “Ahem.”

“Oh, sorry, sire.” Merlin filled Arthur’s cup quickly.

“You can go speak with him if you wish.”

“No, really, I’d rather not. He’ll just want to talk about setting me up with yet another person he finds suitable for me.”

“Is that so?”

Merlin took encouragement from the amused tone in Arthur’s voice. “Yeah. He caught me staring at you the first night and can’t stop going on about how I’ve no chance at all with you and I should set my sights lower.”

They both laughed at the ridiculousness of it. “Are you hungry?” Arthur suddenly asked.

Merlin licked his lips absent-mindedly. “No.” But he was eyeing the plate of food hungrily.

“Here.” Arthur cut off a piece of meat and motioned for Merlin to bend down. “Open your mouth.”

“What—”

“Open.”

Merlin obeyed. Arthur placed the meat gracefully on Merlin’s tongue and Merlin bit into it eagerly, rising to full height again.

Arthur continued eating as normal, completely oblivious to the wide-eyed stares of Wihtred and Mithian. Luckily, nobody else had witnessed the scene.

“Thank you,” Merlin said in a rush after a minute. “That was...really good. Nobles never leave meat on their plates.”

“Would you like more?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Isaac was still trying to get Merlin’s attention.

“For gods’ sake, tell him to come over here already,” Arthur said.

Merlin motioned with his hand and Isaac came over. “What do you want?” Merlin whispered. Arthur pretended to watch the dancing as he ate and Merlin was ignorant to his eavesdropping.

“What happened the other night? Darren was in the middle of asking a favour and you just took off. I understand you didn’t like the idea but that was no reason to just leave the way you did.”

“Who the hell’s Darren?”

“The princess’s stable boy, you idiot. Who else would I be talking about?”

“Oh.”

Arthur’s ears perked up. The same stable boy that wanted Merlin to talk to him about marrying Mithian?

“Yeah. Where’d you hurry off to in such a rush?”

“I felt ill,” Merlin lied. “I had too much to drink. Didn’t want to get sick all over the poor boy.”

“Well, he’s been asking me nonstop about you. Trying to meet up. I told him to bugger off but he’s a determined little shit.”

“Keep holding him off then. There’s only until tomorrow. Then he’ll be gone.”

“That’s just it,” Isaac looked at Merlin sadly. “He heard Mithian talking about extending her stay. Something about making sure the king is alright. I don’t understand it myself. Arthur looks fine to me.”

Arthur had paled slightly at hearing that Mithian might stay longer, but had otherwise remained stoic.

“What? That can’t be. She has to leave.”

“She’s a princess. She can do whatever she wants,” Isaac replied with a shrug.

“But—”

“I’m sorry, Merls, but you can’t keep fending off potential wives for Arthur. You’re a servant. He’s a king. He’s never going to think of you like that.”

Merlin sighed. He could tell what was coming next.

“Now, Darren on the other hand, is a fine lad and really handsome once you get past the dumbstruck, doe-eyed look. I think if you really want him to quit bothering you, you should bend him over and teach him some manners—”

“Isaac!”

Arthur nearly choked on his wine.

“Okay, I understand. Darren is a bit young. And you did say you preferred the more muscled type. How about....hmm...”

“How about no one, Isaac. I told you I’m not interested in getting with anyone. Really, just stop this. It’s getting ridiculous.”

“Alright, fine.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“You said you would back off the other night in the tavern and yet here we are.”

“I really mean it this time. No more meddling.”

“Good. Now go be a decent servant and fill Cædwalla’s cup. He looks like he could use it,” Merlin instructed.

“Ha. You’re right.” He grabbed Merlin’s hand. “If this is the last time we speak, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Merlin.”

“We may meet again soon, my friend. Sooner than you think.”

Arthur frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Isaac hurried to Cædwalla’s side and poured more wine into his glass. Merlin returned closer to Arthur.

Arthur sighed. “What wrong, sire?” Merlin asked.

“Nothing.” But the tone was wistful, hollow.

“Then do try to look like you’re enjoying yourself at least somewhat. You’re bringing the entire mood down,” Merlin advised.

Arthur remembered Mithian’s remark about generally the same thing. He stood.

“Alright. I’ll go find someone to dance with I suppose.”

“Good idea.”

“Try not to get too pissed while I’m not watching, will you?”

“Me?” Merlin mocked offence. “Never.”

As soon as Arthur’s back was turned Merlin took a generous sip from the king’s cup. Arthur glanced over his shoulder and caught him but only laughed. Merlin wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and grinned.

Arthur walked up to a duchess leaning leisurely against the wall, observing the dancing couples. “Would you like to dance?” He held out his hand.

“I—I’d be honoured, Your Highness.”

Arthur danced a few minutes with a few different women, finding one after another as if they were lined up for him. Maybe they were, though there certainly was no distinguishable line formed. Perhaps they secured their place with a simple significant glance at the others in the room and it was agreed upon that that lady should dance with him next.

Suddenly Arthur found himself dancing with Mithian. How that had happened he had no idea, but he looked nervously behind her shoulder to Merlin, who simply nodded imperceptibly his acceptance.

“You have that look in your eyes again.”

“Annoyance? I’ve had it with you and your theories about my eyes, to be quite honest.”

“I was going to say fear. Anxiety. Worry. But I suppose annoyance is somewhere among them,” Mithian retorted. Arthur was beginning to regret ever telling the princess anything. She was acting just like a woman would, blowing the problem out of proportion and worrying all too much about it.

“I’d just like to forget about everything for tonight. I’m going to smile and dance and not bring down the rest of the party. Like you said I should.”

“Alright.”

They danced. He stayed with her far longer than any other woman that night, dashing the hopes of any young duchess that was next in line. But he had to ask her something.

“Is it true you want to extend your visit?”

“Who told you that?”

“Remember the stable boy from earlier? Your precious, meddling Darren?”

“Ah. He really must stop hanging about where he’s unwanted.”

“Indeed. Well, Merlin’s mate, Isaac, spoke with him again. It seems the boy is determined to get Merlin to talk to me about marrying you.”

“I _am_ sorry about that.”

“Yes, well, he says that you want to ‘make sure I’m alright?’ I didn’t mean to inconvenience you, Mithian. You’re free to go with the rest of the lot,” Arthur said.

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe I ought to say it differently. I want you to go, Mithian. Things can’t return to normal if you’re here. Merlin is a creature of nature. You understand, you remember what I told you.” She nodded gravely. “He feels threatened by you. That’s why he—he—”

“Claimed you.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”

“And yet that is what he did.”

“Maybe so. But I firmly believe that once all this is over, he’ll relax. He won’t be so high-strung and on alert. Right now he’s ready to go off at any minute.”

“I told him I know about the two of you. Isn’t that enough? What more has he to worry about?”

“I have to marry _some_ one, Mithian.”

“What has that to do with me?”

“Perhaps he thinks that someone is you.”

“But I—”

“Did you specifically say you weren’t going to try to marry me? Merlin is odd that way.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Arthur sighed. “There’s a plan I have, Mithian. For when I marry. The woman I choose will have to be fine with the arrangement. You see, I’m only going to marry for court purposes and for an heir. She won’t share a bed with me, or even a room. She’ll simply live here like a permanent guest of sorts. And Merlin has the right to deny my choice. It will be a unanimous decision.”

“I see. And Merlin thinks I’m your choice?”

“Possibly. It would explain his continued aversion to you. To him, you’re still a threat.”

It was Mithian’s turn to sigh. “Please tell him that I have no intention of marrying you. I’m not against the idea you propose. I’d be happy to fulfil the role you need. I think it would bring our kingdoms closer together and be beneficial for all. But if Merlin is set against it, I’ll back off.”

“He’ll be pleased.”

“Good. Maybe he’ll stop abusing the king now.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “As much as I’d love to dance with you until my feet give out—”

“I’ve held up the line long enough?”

“There is a line, then?”

“Of course there is.”

She slipped from his arms and smoothly into another’s—Wihtred’s, as fate would have it—and a blushing young girl replaced her. He danced with her until the end of the song then signalled to Merlin that it was time to leave. Merlin took a final sip of wine and followed his master out of the hall.

***

Arthur locked the door shut behind him with a wicked grin.

“Now I’m going to make it up to you. Come here.”

Merlin stepped forward nervously, anxious to see what Arthur was going to do. Arthur placed one hand on Merlin’s shoulder and intertwined the fingers of his other in Merlin’s.

“You’re going to _dance_ with me?”

Arthur smiled. “I am.”

“But there’s no music. And I don’t know how to dance.”

“I’ll teach you. And just listen closely. You can sort of make it out from here.”

He was right. If Merlin really listened he could hear the viols weeping from down the corridor.

“Now, watch my feet and follow my lead.”

Arthur began to move his feet and Merlin struggled to keep up. He stepped on Arthur’s toes a few times and they laughed. Eventually, Merlin got the hang of it, but he was still a bit awkward.

“There you go, Merlin. You’ve got it.”

“Barely.”

“Now look up and do it.”

“Oh no, I’m not ready for that.”

“Yes you are. Come on, you’re a quick-learner. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Merlin raised his eyes to meet Arthur’s and took a deep breath. He almost immediately stepped on Arthur’s toe.

“I told you!”

“No, no, keep your eyes up. Up, Merlin.”

Merlin obeyed and they danced. After some more awkward shuffling Merlin was able to master it.

“Now I want you to lead me.”

“Arthur...”

“You can do it, Merlin. You’re practically doing it already.”

They danced. They danced and danced and danced. Arthur pulled him closer and put his chin on his shoulder. It was as if they melted into one being, breathing and swaying in time with the music.

“You like music, don’t you, Merlin?”

“I do.”

“I could tell. It calms you.”

“It does.”

They moved gracefully around Arthur’s room and Merlin’s chest grew tight with sadness. It was the last time he’d be this close to Arthur. He was glad his last night could be spent like this, dancing with the king.

Then the music stopped. Arthur placed his lips gently on the smooth skin of Merlin’s neck, earning a moan in response.

“Arthur.”

“Is something wrong?” Arthur’s breath teased his skin and excited him.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“But your—are you—does it still hurt?” Merlin asked nervously.

“We don’t have to...do all that tonight. I was just thinking...”

Arthur pushed pushed his hips forward and grinded into Merlin in slow circles. Merlin suddenly found himself unable to breathe properly and held on to Arthur’s arse cheeks for dear life.

“Ar-Arthur. I don’t want—don’t want to hurt you. What if I—what if I can’t stay in control?” But Merlin was breathless and whining in pleasure. He wanted this, he wanted this.

“I trust you, Merlin. And I need you.” Arthur brought his lips to Merlin’s ear and breathed into it hot and heavy. “You’ve been so far away from me since that night. I want you to know that it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Merlin didn’t say anything. He let Arthur push him down onto the bed and pull his breeches off with agonising slowness. Arthur kissed the tip of his manservant’s freed cock wetly.

“You mean the world to me,” he said, letting the hot breath tickle Merlin’s damp skin.

Merlin pushed his hips up, slipping himself easily between the king’s inviting lips. His vision reeled and he gripped the blankets, fighting to anchor himself to humanity. He could feel the urge to growl rising in his throat and suppressed it by moaning instead.

Arthur rarely pleased him with his mouth. Their usual routine was for the king to palm the bulge in Merlin’s trousers until Merlin started doing the same but more furiously, and that undid Arthur so much that he begged for Merlin to get inside him immediately. Then Arthur would find that while Merlin had been rubbing him, he’d also made the vial of oil float over to them and from there it was a frenzy of lust and limbs.

Merlin was certain that Arthur had gone down on him at some point in the last few months, but he could only remember that first time in Ealdor when Arthur first taught him. Now Arthur was sucking in earnest, pulling the filthiest sounds from Merlin’s mouth with his tongue.

“Arthur, Arthur,” he moaned.

Arthur shifted on the bed and suddenly his cock was swinging tantalisingly in Merlin’s face. He didn’t force it in, just hovered it above Merlin’s parted lips, shivering at the hot breath that teased his prick.

He didn’t have to wait long. Merlin caught the desire and took Arthur in greedily. Arthur moaned as he both sucked Merlin and fucked his mouth.

Soon Merlin felt his muscles tense and he was rolling Arthur over onto his back to switch positions. His knees dug into the bed besides Arthur’s head and he was somewhat aware that he was speeding up the pace of his hips thrusting back and forth into the king’s mouth.

“Mmph.” Arthur nearly choked as Merlin hit the back of his throat. He sensed Merlin steadily losing control. The thrusts were growing more frantic and Merlin’s hands toyed with Arthur’s balls almost painfully.

He rolled them over again and shoved his dick more forcefully into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin settled down almost immediately, having been disciplined, and felt himself relax as he adjusted to the change in position, Arthur’s cock easing him into peaceful submission.

Merlin erupted first, coming down Arthur’s throat in hot bursts. Arthur swallowed all hungrily and thrust into Merlin until he too came apart and went limp.

He fell to his side, breathless and triumphant. There hadn’t been a single rumbling from Merlin’s chest. He’d kept him under control. This was a victory. If Merlin could suppress it altogether, it was possible he was able to balance on the thin line between beast and human that Arthur loved so much when they fucked, the line that Merlin had crossed a couple nights before.

“Wow,” Merlin breathed. “That was...”

“Yeah. It was.”

Merlin started chuckling and it soon gave way to all out hysterics. He didn’t know what was so funny. He just couldn’t stop laughing.

Arthur, always on the same page, joined in. All the tension melted away and they were just Merlin and Arthur again, cave-boy and king.


	8. Departures

Dawn was still a couple hours off, but Merlin had something he needed to do before he left. For one, he needed to release Kilgharrah. If he left the dragon to rot beneath the castle he would never be able to forgive himself.

Then he’d write Arthur a letter. Not a particularly lengthy letter, just a few words to explain why he was leaving and never coming back.

He supposed he ought to leave a note for Gaius as well. The old physician had become Merlin’s closest friend besides Arthur over the past few months and they’d grown incredibly fond of one another. He’d be sure to leave behind some of his recipes and information on ailments he’d discovered in old books he’d found in the dustiest parts of the library.

“Ah, at last,” Kilgharrah greeted him when he went down into the dragon’s prison. “I was beginning to doubt you’d keep your promise.”

“I don’t break promises. My father said a man should always be true to his word. Now let’s do this.”

***

With the dragon properly freed, and Camelot safe from his fiery breath with a simple command, Merlin spent the rest of the early morning hours writing.

Merlin’s handwriting was good. He was proud of it. But he was shit with words. He knew how he wanted the notes to sound and what they should generally consist of, but getting the wording just right was important. These would be the last words they’d ever have from him. They weren’t to be taken lightly.

He decided to do Gaius’s first.

 

_Gaius,_

_It has been a pleasure to know you. You’ve taught me much about science and reasoning, and I’m proud to have had you as a mentor. I will always remember you as a dear friend, and I hope you will forgive me one day and regard me as the same._

_My reasons for leaving are entirely personal. Nobody, not even Arthur, is to blame for my sudden departure. Everyone in Camelot has treated me with only kindness and I’m extremely grateful for it. But I don’t belong here, and the sooner I leave, the better._

_I know you have lived a long time, and have suffered too many goodbyes, but I must go. You are a very skilled physician, and now that magic is free to practise, I believe that, with enough study, you can perfect your treatments and keep the people of Camelot well and happy._

_You have been, and always will be, my most dear friend._

_Merlin_

 

Merlin read and reread the letter, poring over each word. When he was satisfied with it, he folded it neatly and set it aside. Now on to Arthur’s. What could he possibly say to keep from breaking Arthur’s heart?

 

_As much as I wish you could, you may not ever forget me. Please hold on to the good memories as well as the bad. It’s important that you know why this could never work out. You deserve so much more than someone like me, and it’s mostly because of that that I have to leave. You know as well as I that I don’t belong in a city. It’s true I’ve grown used to it, and it’s even become bearable given the amount of time you let me slack off and linger in the forest, but Camelot was never my true home. I have deceived myself long enough into thinking it was or that it ever could be._

_Please don’t hate me. Things are better this way._

 

Arthur’s was harder to write content-wise but easier since he could write in Dragon Tongue. He wrote and rewrote, read and reread (and reread) but he could think of nothing else to say. He supposed he could thank him for teaching him all the wonderful things about the outside world, but that seemed unnecessary. It might even bring forth unwanted emotions in Arthur.

Merlin thought idly about all the things he could add and didn’t notice his hand moving across the paper. When the first rays of the sun came in the window, he sighed and folded the letter, then got up, yawning. He placed Gaius’s note where he knew the old man would see it later in the day, when Merlin was long gone, and left his chambers with a single pack slung over his shoulders for the last time.

***

Arthur didn’t realise he was awake for about ten minutes. He laid with his eyes staring blankly at the curtain dancing in the morning breeze, completely mesmorised. It wasn’t until a serving girl came in loudly and put his breakfast tray on the table with a jarring thump that Arthur sat straight up and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry sire, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said in a high, whiny voice.

“It’s alright. Where’s Merlin?”

“He told me he’d be busy gathering herbs this morning and that I was to bring this to you right away.”

That was ridiculous. Gaius didn’t need herbs so early in the morning. But maybe Merlin expected to be busy later in the day and thought he should get it out of the way now. What a weird man.

“Oh. Alright. Thank you.”

She curtseyed and left as abruptly as she’d come in. Arthur stood and went to eat. The food was cold and hard. Arthur realised Merlin must have been warming it with magic every morning before he served him and his heart swelled at the gesture.

He managed to get down half the meal before giving up. He opened his wardrobe and pulled out a blue tunic, one he rarely wore. Merlin had been so busy this past week he hadn’t had time for Arthur’s laundry. Actually, considering all the time spent in the forest, he probably had. Arthur smiled as he thought of naughty ways to punish him.

That’s when a piece of paper slipped from the shelf and floated mysteriously down between Arthur’s feet. Arthur bent to pick it up and eyed it curiously. He recognised Merlin’s handwriting immediately. Arthur’s name was written boldly on the front. In Dragon Tongue.

He ripped open the envelope and fixed his eyes on the elegant print at once.

At first, he was confused. Why was Merlin talking about forgetting? Then he read the heart-wrenching words “I have to leave” and “I don’t belong in a city.” Arthur’s eyes filled with tears and he was too hurt to make a noise.

The letter fell from his hands and he wrapped his arms around himself. It felt like a giant hole had hollowed out his chest and the emptiness was heavy. It weighed him down to the floor, where he curled into a tight ball, trying desperately not to break.

Merlin was gone. That’s why that serving girl had brought him breakfast. A tiny voice whispered in his head whispered, “He’ll never keep your food warm again,” and that was somehow the last straw. A sob escaped him and his vision blurred with salt-water leaking from his eyes.

No more soft smiles when he refilled Arthur’s cup at supper. No more lingering touches when he dressed him in the morning. No more heated kisses in stolen alcoves. No more hunting trips with just the two of them or a couple of knights for company. No more growling in his ear while he fucked him mercilessly. No more of him sitting his lap, petting his hair and saying “Shh” to calm him down.

No more Merlin.

The door to Arthur’s chambers opened and without looking to see who it was he shouted, “Go away!”

“Arthur? Arthur!”

It was Gwaine and, following close behind, Leon. He must have been crying louder than he realised.

“What’s happened? Are you alright? Have you been hurt?” Leon asked as he pulled Arthur into a sitting position, his back against the wardrobe.

Gwaine spotted the letter on the floor beside the king and picked it up. With one look at it he figured out what happened.

“Leon, go fetch Gaius immediately. I’ll talk to Arthur.”

Leon stood and left and Gwaine kneeled down to meet Arthur’s eyes. “It’s Merlin, isn’t it? He’s done something. This is his handwriting in that Dragon Tongue language of his.” He squeezed Arthur’s shoulder. “Please, Arthur, I want to help you.”

Arthur didn’t trust his voice, but he tried to speak. It came out broken and hysterical. “He—He’s left, Gwaine. He’s gone.”

“Did he say why?”

“He claims he doesn’t belong here. That I d-deserve someone better.” Arthur sniffled.

“Why would he say something like that? You two were perfect together.”

“It’s—Sometimes he would—You know about...where he’s from. He lived in the forest his whole life. Sometimes he loses control and—and—”

Gwaine gasped. “He hit you?!”

“He didn’t mean it! I forgave him but he still felt terrible. I thought everything was fine. Last night, we...everything was fine.”

Gwaine shook his head, unable to see thin little Merlin hurt someone as strong as Arthur. “And now he’s just disappeared.”

“Y-y-y-yes.” Arthur wiped his eyes, determined to pull himself together. It wasn’t right for his knights to see him this way, even if they were his friends.

“How long ago did he leave?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ll look for him. We’ll send out a patrol. We’ll find him. I promise.”

Leon returned with Gaius and Gwaine hid the paper behind Arthur’s back.

“It’s Merlin. He’s left.”

“Gaius told me. What do you propose we do?” Leon asked.

“The only thing we can do,” Gwaine replied. “We find him and bring him home.”

***

Cædwalla had been the first guest to leave, setting out right at dawn with the rest of his company. It was a shame really. Arthur was going to ask Isaac where Merlin might have gone.

His next move would be to ask the dragon. He’d never talked to it before, but he knew the ancient language and it should be no problem. As soon as he saw the rest of the visitors off he’d run down there as fast as he could.

“You look troubled again,” Mithian said as they held hands on the castle steps. “Are you sure you want me to go?”

“Mithian, you’ve been more than helpful. I won’t forget what you’ve done for me. I hope one day I can bring Merlin around to see you’re perfect for that wife position that needs filling.” Arthur forced a smile. “But for now, go. I know your father must be anxious to hear the result of the council.”

Mithian nodded and gave Arthur’s hand a final squeeze before signalling her men to start off. A couple of them helped her onto her horse and soon they were dots along the horizon.

Wihtred left next. The two men shook hands.

“You’re a good man, Arthur Pendragon. Better than anyone gives you credit for,” the prince said.

“Thank you, Wihtred. I’m honoured to receive your praise.”

“I mean it. Edwin told me everything.”

Arthur swallowed the anger threatening to rise in his throat. “I told him—”

“It’s fine, Arthur. I understand.”

“You do?” If Edwin had really told the prince everything, it was highly unlikely he truly understood.

“Not all of it,” Wihtred replied, addressing the issue of the abuse. “But I know what it’s like to love someone you feel you shouldn’t. It’s a terrible burden and yet you wouldn’t give it up for the world.”

Arthur knit his brow. “Then you and Edwin...?”

Wihtred laughed. “Oh gods, no!” His expression softened. “There was someone, once. A sorceress. When my father found out...well, it didn’t end well. Losing someone just all of a sudden like that...it’s a terrible feeling. One that stays with you for as long as you live.”

Arthur saw Wihtred in a new light then. This prince hadn’t always been brazen and immoral. It was pain that made him so. Everyone had their own way of dealing with loss, of grieving, and this was Wihtred’s. He spent every moment trying to forget the heartache by doing things that made him happy. But at the end of the day, that pain always returned.

Arthur didn’t think he’d end up like Wihtred, but he didn’t relish the thought of having to walk around with a hole in his chest for the rest of his life either. If the knights didn’t return with Merlin soon, Arthur might not be able to retain his composure.

“Thank you, then. For understanding.”

Wihtred nodded solemnly and turned to leave. The only guest remaining was Cenred.

“I am happy at the way things turned out,” the Mercian king announced. “The celebration was wonderful. And not a single rainy day to ruin it.”

“Yes, it was quite fun. If I can find an excuse to hold another one next year, I’ll let you know.” Arthur smiled but he hoped fervently that he never had to host such a large event again. Not after what it did to Merlin. And to himself.

“You be sure to do that!” Cenred grinned broadly. He put a heavy hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “You know, Arthur, as much as your father hated magic, I’m sure he’d be very proud of the man you’ve grown up to be. You rule the kingdom wisely and with the utmost justice, sometimes even wiser than the elder Pendragon himself.” Cenred stepped back and bowed. “It is an honour to be your ally.”

Arthur’s heart swelled with pride despite his utter agony. “Thank you, Cenred. I only hope that what you say is true. My father’s hatred of magic was legendary.” He shook the king’s hand. “I am glad you enjoyed yourself. Take care, old friend.”

Finally, all were gone. Arthur hurried to the dungeons and grabbed a torch on his way down the stone steps.

He should have known, really. Of course Merlin wouldn’t leave without freeing the dragon first. It wouldn’t do to have Camelot in danger all because of a forgetful manservant.

Arthur kicked the dirt on the ground. “Dammit!”

He stormed back to his room, ignoring the curious glances of the few servants out and about. Most were resting after the long strain of the week.

He’d moved on from despair to anger, though no doubt despair would make a reappearance soon. How could Merlin do this to him? What about all the promises they’d made and the plans for the future? Did all of that mean nothing now?

And who did Merlin think he was, deciding what was best for Arthur? If Arthur wanted to endure unintentional abuse as the cost of staying with the one he loved, it wasn’t up to Merlin to decide. If anything, it should have been a consensual agreement.

Like that would ever happen. Merlin had probably known as well as Arthur that he’d never allow Merlin to leave willingly. It hurt to think that he’d been trapping Merlin here somehow. But Merlin could have at least said goodbye in person, not leave some scribbled note in the wardrobe like a sneaky mistress.

Where did that note go, anyhow? It was the last tangible thing of Merlin’s that he had and he didn’t want to lose it, no matter how upset he was with the man. There it was, on the floor by the wardrobe where he’d left it. He walked over and picked it up, smoothing out the wrinkles. He noticed there was writing on the back and turned it over. Maybe there was some hint as to where he was going.

There wasn’t, but what Arthur did find brought back despair like a punch to the gut.

_I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you  I love you_

***

Around the time Arthur had given up eating his cold breakfast, Merlin turned around and looked at Camelot for the last time. The tallest towers were just barely visible above the trees and with a pang of regret he realised it was a little after time for Arthur to wake up.

He hoped that Arthur would find the letter later, that by some miracle he’d open his other wardrobe today and not be too heartbroken as he sent off the rest of the visitors.

“Merlin, keep up.”

Merlin turned forward to meet Isaac’s anxious eyes. Cædwalla didn’t take well to people that lagged behind, and though he didn’t know Merlin was among them, he would surely find out if his manservant Isaac didn’t keep pace with the rest of the company.

“Sorry.”

Merlin ran forward and returned to Isaac’s side.

“Feeling homesick already?” The boy asked conversationally.

Merlin shook his head. “Camelot is not my home. But there are many memories within those walls. In some ways, I am sad to go.”

“You could always turn back. Not too late, you know.”

“No. I can’t go back. I can never go back.”

“Why is that?”

Merlin looked up and smiled sadly. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Isaac stared at Merlin awhile longer, biting his tongue. He _wanted_ to understand. He wanted Merlin to know that whatever it was, he could trust him, he was his friend. But Isaac said nothing and eventually dropped his gaze to the ground.

They walked in silence for a good five hours before it was generally agreed upon that they should rest awhile and eat. Merlin slipped his hand into Isaac’s meeting the serving boy’s surprised eyes and squeezing gently.

“This is where we part, my friend,” Merlin said. “It’s been a pleasure to know you.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to visit some friends first. From there, I’m not quite sure yet.”

“Come back to Wessex with us. I’m sure Cædwalla won’t recognise you,” Isaac offered.

“I don’t think so. If I do go to another kingdom it might be Mercia or Northumbria. Maybe even Kent. But definitely not Wessex. It’s not safe for me there.”

“Well. It’s been a pleasure to know you also, Merlin. I hope you live a good long life and have many sexual partners.”

Merlin laughed. “The same to you.”

With a final wave goodbye he snuck off deep into the forest. He looked up at the sun through the foliage, and after a moment of calculation, headed east.

***

Arthur spun his pen in his fingers anxiously. He figured that if he concentrated on something important, like the cost of the week-long celebration, it would distract him from his missing lover and manservant. But it was turning out to be one huge headache.

He dropped the pen on his desk and glanced out the window. When had night fallen? Perhaps sorting through documents wasn’t a bad idea after all as it had certainly killed a lot of time. Now his thoughts wandered back to Merlin. Where was he sleeping tonight? How far away was he by now?

Gwaine entered the room loudly as if in answer to Arthur’s silent prayer. This time Percival was following close behind.

“Have you found him?” Arthur asked immediately.

“Kay said he spotted someone that looked like Merlin leave earlier this morning with Cædwalla’s group, but he couldn’t be sure,” Gwaine said and Arthur perked up. There might be hope after all. Suddenly Arthur realised that’s why Merlin had said he might see Isaac again soon the previous night at supper.

“Percival and Leon rode out and followed Cædwalla’s trail until they came to where they were resting and eating dinner. They took off their crests and capes so as not to cause any alert and started asking among the servants if they’d seen anyone who fit Merlin’s description. One man, terrible at lying he was, was able to give them information after some...friendly encouragement.”

Gwaine nodded to Percival and the muscled man stepped forward to relay his report.

“The man’s name was Isaac. At first he was determined not to give anything away, but you know my effect on people.” Arthur nodded, knowing full well the intimidation caused by those bulging biceps. “He told us that Merlin had left with them and had travelled with them up until they settled down there for a rest. Merlin himself didn’t know where he was going, but said he was going to visit some friends first.”

“Is that all?”

“Isaac asked us if Merlin was in trouble. Said that Merlin had mentioned something about never being able to return to Camelot. I—I speak for myself and on behalf of most of the knights, my lord. Why _did_ Merlin leave?”

Gwaine glanced at Percival with annoyance and Arthur held back the tears he felt forming.

“We got into a bit of a disagreement,” he said. “He overreacted and thought it would be best if he just leave. We have to find him and make him see that’s not true. That he’s always welcome here.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“That’ll be all, Percival.”

The knight bowed and left, leaving Arthur alone with Gwaine.

“I’m guessing you want to ride out this very moment?”

“I do,” Arthur sighed. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me to wait until tomorrow morning?”

“I am. Because you should.”

“The longer I wait, the farther away he gets, Gwaine.”

“He has to rest too, Arthur. He’s only human.” Arthur snorted. “And he’s on foot. We’ll get to him in no time. Especially if you know where he’s headed.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Where?”

“Ealdor.”

“The village everyone believes he’s from? He’s visiting friends there?”

“It’s the only place he _has_ friends besides Camelot. Find George and tell him to ready my horse in the morning. I’m riding at dawn.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No, Gwaine. I want you to stay here.”

“You can’t stop me.”

Arthur grunted. Who was he kidding? This was _Gwaine_ for fuck’s sake.

“Alright, fine. But only tell the other knights that we’re going to get Merlin, not where we’ll be. And that if we’re not back in a week—”

“Then come after us. I got it.”

The king sighed. “Thank you, Gwaine. I wouldn’t have been able to get through this without you.”

“I know.” Gwaine smiled and bowed. “Good night, sire.”

***

Merlin woke when the sun was high in the sky. He cursed the relentless passing of time. Apparently, walking for sixteen hours straight had tired him out more than he thought. Months ago, when he had better endurance, he’d have been able to walk all day and wake with the sun no problem. Living in Camelot had weakened him.

He stood and stretched his aching muscles. Today would be another long day of nonstop walking with a heavy load on his back. At least he’d brought some small pieces of bread. Later, when he neared Ealdor, there would be wild berries he could pick.

Merlin set off with a sigh. He used a bit of magic to make his pack float beside him, not yet ready to carry so much weight this early in the morning. Okay, it was almost noon, but it felt early to him, having just woken up.

***

Arthur woke a little before dawn. He wanted to ride out right as the sun rose but when the other knights heard about his plans, they held him off with pleas.

“You must stay here, my lord. The city needs you after such a grand event. There are matters to be organised,” one said, as if Arthur wasn’t already aware of it.

“If you insist on going, at least take one of us with you,” another begged.

“Gwaine will be accompanying me,” Arthur announced impatiently.

Leon and Percival and a couple other knights glared at Gwaine enviously.

“Let Leon or someone else go as well,” Kay suggested. “What if you run into bandits?”

“We’re more than well-equipped to handle a few bandits,” Arthur assured him.

He was starting to get anxious and began shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He loved his knights and appreciated their concern, but there was no changing his mind on this. They should have realised that by now.

Gwaine, bless him, noticed Arthur’s growing frustration and began to herd them away. “The king has made his decision. You would do well to respect it.”

Some of the knights looked ashamed and walked away after nodding an apology to their leader. Leon and a couple others still looked unsure and only left after a stern look from Gwaine.

“Thank you, Gwaine.”

“It was no trouble. I’m eager to get off myself.” He mounted his horse. “You’re not the only one who cares about Merlin, you know.”

Arthur suddenly felt ashamed himself. He’d been selfish to think only of how Merlin’s departure affected him. Merlin was friends with all of them, and Gaius had grown so fond of him that he thought of him like the son he’d never had. Of course he wasn’t the only one who was suffering.

Arthur mounted his horse and they hurried out of the sleeping city half an hour late.

***

Arthur thought they were going too slow. After a good four hours of riding, Gwaine told the king that they’d better slow down if they wanted any chance at finding Merlin.

“What the hell do you mean ‘slow down?’” Arthur asked angrily.

“I mean, nobody could walk this far in just a day and a half. We’re probably closing in on him,” Gwaine explained. “And if he’s not following the path, there’s a good chance we could miss him among the trees. Trust me, we’re going faster than him. We could take a break and still be hot on his trail.”

Arthur bit his lip. Gwaine was right. They couldn’t risk passing right by Merlin. And they had to be quiet; Merlin’s ears were as sharp as a hound’s.

“Alright. How far do you reckon he got last night?”

“Hard to tell. He’ll be good at hiding his tracks for sure. And he could probably run through this place no problem.” Gwaine looked at Arthur comfortingly. “Best just to focus on keeping an eye out for him.”

Arthur gulped and nodded, looking straight ahead. Why did Gwaine have to look at him like that? It was one thing to have Mithian do it; she was a woman. But Gwaine? Loud-mouthed, insolent, carefree Gwaine?

Suddenly Arthur’s chest began to ache and he wrapped one of his arms around himself. It was a strangely heavy emptiness caused by the hole Merlin had left. He’d give anything, _anything_ to fill it. He’d rather die than live the rest of his life this way.

Gwaine glanced over at the king and wished he hadn’t. He didn’t like seeing Arthur with that expression of immense pain on his face. The fact that Arthur either wouldn’t, or couldn’t, bother to keep his face composed was scary. Arthur was always the strongest of them all, the backbone of the knights, the leader. If Arthur broke, he didn’t know what they’d do.

They had to find Merlin soon.

***

Merlin figured he ought to continue a bit after sundown to make up for the time he lost that morning. A cycle of waking up late was sure to ensue afterwards, but Merlin didn’t care. He wasn’t in any rush. Arthur would never find him, not if he stuck to the denser part of the forest.

The trouble with that plan was, he couldn’t see two feet in front of him. The canopy above was so thick that it blocked out any moonlight, and even with his good sense of direction, he wouldn’t be able to find his way.

He took his pack off and leaned against a tree. He wasn’t having second thoughts. He _wasn’t_. And even if he was, he’d already left notes that said he’d never come back. This decision was final. It had to be.

Despite Merlin’s resolve, he shivered when he suddenly felt tears tickling his cheeks. He wiped them away furiously. There was no reason to cry. He was only doing what was best, for him and for Arthur.

And yet he felt hollow. He thought that returning to the forest would be different, that he’d finally feel some sort of freedom. Now the leaves whispered to him in confusion, as if asking “What are you doing back here? Didn’t you leave to be with the golden king?”

Though Merlin had returned, something was missing. He’d have to be an idiot not to know that something was Arthur. He both wanted and didn’t want Arthur to be there with him. It was ridiculous. Arthur was almost the whole reason why Merlin had left in the first place and now he was wishing to be by his side again.

Another gush of tears began to flow when that brought back memories of what he’d told Wihtred: “Should you need me, I am most likely to be at the king’s side, where I am supposed to be.” Those words meant nothing now. He’d thought he was supposed to be by Arthur, had once believed he would die at Arthur’s side. Now here he was, back in the forest at last, Arthur-less and completely alone.

This wasn’t right. He was meant to be in the forest. He belonged here. But at the same time, he couldn’t wait to get to Ealdor and meet up with Will and the rest. He longed for human company more than he remembered. It was unsettling how much he’d changed, even more so when he realised he might never be the same again.

Merlin didn’t want to feel hurt like this. He wanted to remember the good times he’d had with Arthur but the memories were also a burden. Why couldn’t things go back to what they were before Arthur had come into his life? Why couldn’t he regress back into the shy, innocent cave-boy that he was?

He banged his head against the tree trunk. He was mad at the world, mad at his destiny, mad at Arthur for being so damn lovable. Most of all he was mad at himself. If he had listened to his father, none of this would have happened. Sure he’d still be uneducated and completely lacking in social skills, but that was better than the hurt he was enduring now, the hurt he no doubt would suffer the rest of his life.

He banged his head again and again, each time with more force. It was more than a frustrated gesture; it was punishment. Every time Merlin had hurt Arthur, he was let off with a sigh and an “It’s okay, Merlin.” And every time Merlin had foolishly accepted it. He deserved the sharp ache in the back of his head.

He made a guttural noise deep in his throat and his head struck the tree harder than any time before. The edges of his vision blurred and he fell onto his side, his right cheek landing in a damp pile of leaves.


	9. Return to Ealdor (and all the rest)

Four days had passed.

“I know what you’re thinking, Arthur,” Gwaine said. “It’s going to take more than a week at the pace we’re going. I know what has to be done and I’ll go willingly.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. This was why he’d taken Gwaine. That, and the fact that he knew more about Merlin than the other knights.

“Just be _care_ ful. I know you’re anxious and frustrated and high-strung all at once. All I ask is that you keep a level head and don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m glad you have so much faith in me,” Arthur said bitingly, but appreciated the concern.

“You know I do, Arthur.” He nodded a final goodbye and turned his horse around. “I’ll tell them not to wait up. I understand it could take a while. But if you’re gone for a month I swear I’ll find this Ealdor and search every house if I have to.”

“I won’t be a month, Gwaine. That would be ridiculous, even under these circumstances.”

Gwaine smiled. The king was returning to his normal, prioritising self.

“Shame. I would have had fun searching the women’s lodgings especially,” he joked and was off with the sound of Arthur’s laughter echoing behind him.

As soon as Gwaine was out of sight he kicked his horse and pushed it as fast as it would go. Fuck Gwaine’s logic, however wise it was. Arthur knew Merlin was headed for Ealdor. Even if Arthur arrived before him, Merlin would turn up sooner or later. It would only be a matter of waiting.

***

Arthur was actually two days ahead of Merlin. The self-inflicted head injury had knocked him out for a good chunk of the day and when he did finally wake up, he felt so ill he didn’t want to move. Instead, he used his rucksack as a pillow and rested for twenty-seven hours, drifting between dream world and reality.

When he finally felt well enough to stand, his head still ached and he was dizzy. He nibbled on the remainder of his bread and forced himself to walk on. Unlike the two days spent travelling non-stop, Merlin did rest every few hours this time. He didn’t want to push himself if he was injured badly.

A couple hours after noon he sat by a spring and drank until he felt water sloshing around in his stomach. He hadn’t come across any edible berries yet and he’d eaten all the bread he could safely bring.

As he filled his water pouch, he heard horse hooves approaching rapidly from the way he was heading. He lowered himself to a prone position and peeked through the dense foliage at the road. The length of dark hair whipping wildly in the wind was unmistakable. It was Gwaine, probably sent out to look for him and was on his way back, having found nothing.

Merlin didn’t trouble himself wondering how Gwaine knew which way he’d gone. Arthur had probably sent a knight out in each direction to search for him.

The warlock sighed. He should have stolen a horse. But then he wouldn’t have been able to sneak out with Cædwalla’s company and would have been spotted for sure. At least Arthur didn’t know where he was going. Even if he did, Merlin was positive Will would hide him. Will, like everyone in Ealdor, was a good friend.

After Gwaine passed, he began walking with increased haste, sometimes breaking out into a full-on run. At times he felt as if Leon or—gods forbid—Percival was closing in behind him and he looked over his shoulder just to be sure. He knew he would never be able to get out of Percival’s clutches once in them, and though magic was no longer outlawed, he didn’t want to have to use it on his former friends.

So Merlin hurried as fast as he could the rest of the way to Ealdor, and safety.

***

When Will woke up that morning, he was not expecting visitors. He was certainly not expecting King fucking _Arthur_ to knock on his door either, but here he was, letting this unexpected—though admittedly royal—guest into his home.

“I don’t mean to sound rude,” Will began, “but why the bloody hell are you here?”

“I’m looking for Merlin,” the king said simply.

“Well, he’s not here, I can assure you.”

“But he will be. I need you to let me wait for him here.” Arthur’s eyes were uncharacteristically pleading and Will was a little perturbed by this new, weak Arthur.

“What’s happened? I thought you two were having the time of your lives in Camelot,” Will asked hesitantly.

“We were. But then Merlin started to get a bit...well, he changed.”

“How so?”

Arthur chewed his lip. He hadn’t been looking forward to this part, to telling yet another person about Merlin’s unfortunate transformation and his resulting breakdown.

“He started to get a bit violent.”

Will barked out a laugh. “Merlin? Little, scrawny, pale-faced _Merlin_? He got teary-eyed whenever he stepped on a flower by accident. He could never be violent.”

“Well, he is. So much so that he thought he needed to leave Camelot to protect me,” Arthur snapped. The strain in his voice was evident and Will was suddenly very uncomfortable.

“Okay. He left Camelot then. And now he’s on his way here?”

“Yes. He plans on stopping by for probably a couple days, then going to find a new home. This is the only chance I’ll have at making him realise that Camelot is his true home. It’s where he belongs.”

“I don’t know. Have you ever thought that maybe he wanted to leave because it’s _not_ where he belongs? He did grow up in a cave, you know. I’d feel out of place too.” Arthur clenched his hands, but Will, ignorant as ever, continued. “And maybe it wasn’t just to protect you. Maybe he started thinking you weren’t right for him, or didn’t love him as much—”

“You don’t know anything about him!” Arthur screamed. “He knew perfectly well how much I loved him and he didn’t care at all that I was a king and he a servant. Being right for each other had nothing to do with it. He was misguided is all. Thought he was doing the right thing. So don’t stand there and talk to me like you have it all figured out when you really have no clue what’s going on!”

Will panicked. “Okay! Alright! Just—just calm down!”

“Don’t you think I’m trying?!”

The words escaped before Arthur could hold them back. The king stepped back and closed his eyes. He took a few minutes to breathe deeply and pull himself back together. He couldn’t break down in front of Will of all people.

Will just stood uncomfortably and waited for Arthur to continue. He didn’t know what he should say.

“I can’t make you understand,” Arthur said finally. “And honestly, I didn’t expect you to. Just please let me stay here and wait for Merlin. I don’t want anyone else to know I’m here.” As an afterthought Arthur added, “I’m not asking as a king. I wouldn’t force you to do anything. I’m asking as a friend. I know this whole situation is a bit awkward.”

Even if he was asking as a friend, who was Will to refuse a king? And if Merlin really had changed, who was better suited to help? Will cared about the secret sorcerer too. Together, he and Arthur had a good chance at returning Merlin to normal. Whatever normal for him was.

“You’re always welcome here, Arthur. Both you and Merlin.”

Arthur sighed and visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Will. If there’s anything you need, anything at all—”

“I’ll be sure to ask.” There was a moment of silence as they both didn’t know where to go from there. Then Will offered, “Want something to eat?”

***

Merlin was dead tired. As soon as he saw the first humble buildings of Ealdor his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. They knew he was close to shelter and comfort and were betraying him, the bastards.

Merlin tightened his jaw and put each foot in front of the other determinedly. Now he really was losing it. Insulting his legs...what would come next, talking to himself?

A small boy playing out in the yard noticed Merlin first. He’d been four when Merlin left, and was now five. He dropped his wooden toys to the ground and bounced up. “Merlin!” He cried.

Merlin smiled broadly. “Blake! How’ve you been?”

“Good. You came back.”

“I did.” Merlin picked up the lad and carried him on his hip with an arm wrapped around him. “Did you miss me?”

“A whole lot. Father was sad when you left. You always got a lot of work done. But then he was happy again.” Blake tugged a lock of Merlin’s messy hair. “Now he’ll be more happier.”

Merlin remembered his time with Matthew fondly. “I can’t wait to see him and everybody else. But I’m in a bit of a hurry right now. We’ll have supper. How does that sound?”

“That sounds great!” Blake exclaimed. “And Rose and Viv can come too. You remember Rose? She gave you the green scarf.” Blake pulled at the red one Merlin was currently wearing. “You should change into it before you come over. You might hurt her feelings.”

Merlin laughed. “Okay, I will. Who’s Viv again?”

“Vivian. She was friends with me and Rose but then she became a woman and now she doesn’t bother with us. I still think she’d like to see you though.”

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh again. “‘Became a woman,’ huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Blake shrugged and the gesture nearly caused him to slip out of Merlin’s grip. “Dunno. I asked Mum and she said I’d learn when I was older. But Rose is two years older than me and she doesn’t know. She just said that it has something to do with Viv being really bitchy every so often.”

“Blake!”

“Rose said it, not me!”

Merlin chuckled. He wished he could have grown up with friends and drama. Instead he ran around with wolves and threw stones into water to entertain himself.

“Alright, alright,” he said, setting the boy down. “I’ve got to go now, but I’ll see you tonight. Came bang on Will’s door as soon as it’s ready, okay?”

“Okay!”

Merlin turned and started walking but Blake called him back. “Oh, and Merlin!”

“Yeah?”

“Your talking is a lot better now.”

Merlin grinned. “Thanks, Blake. Yours too.”

He hurried down the road to Will’s house, not eager to be stopped again. He knocked on the door loudly four times and heard a bit of shuffling inside.

Finally, Will opened up and greeted Merlin with a friendly smile.

“Merlin! It’s been so long! What are you doing here of all places?”

“Can’t I visit an old friend?”

“Of course you can. I just thought you’d be busy serving your royal husband in Camelot right about now.” Will opened the door wider and waved Merlin inside.

Merlin laughed. “Arthur gave me a few days off. Said I could spend them as I see fit. And I figured, ‘It’s been awhile since I’ve seen my old pal Will. Ought to pay him a visit.’ So here I am.”

Will beamed. “Well, look at you, speaking like you’ve known English all your life. How’ve you been?”

“Great. Positively fantastic.” Merlin eyed the spare bed. “Mind if I sit down? I’ve had a long journey.”

“Sure, sure, go right ahead.” Will waved him over. “I’ll get something for you to eat. You must be starving.”

Merlin set his pack down. “That would be great, thanks.” Will went to the table to slice some bread, and Merlin remembered what he’d promised Blake. “Oh, I’ll be going over to Matthew’s tonight. Blake is going to come knock on the door when supper is ready.”

“You’ve seen Blake, then?” Merlin nodded. “Isn’t he so big now?”

“He is. Growing like a weed, that one.”

Will put the bread on a plate and walked it over to Merlin. “It’s really great that you can talk now, Merlin. So much easier to communicate. Matthew will be proud.”

Merlin shoved a big bite in his mouth. “Yeah, I heard he was having trouble after I left,” he said between chewing.

Will laughed. “You still eat like a dog, Merlin. But yeah, he wasn’t in great shape. He got so used to you working on the farm. I don’t think anybody realised just how much help you were around here.”

Merlin swallowed his food. “I feel terrible now. I couldn’t even have imagined what my leaving would do to you all.”

Will eyed Merlin seriously. “Yeah, we often have no idea what our actions do to the ones we care about.”

Merlin frowned and looked down to his bread, taking another bite so he wouldn’t have to reply.

Will noticed the change in Merlin’s aura and sat down next to him. “So tell me all about Camelot. What are the ladies like?”

Merlin chuckled around the food in his mouth. “You know I don’t look at women like that.”

“But you do look at them, surely.”

“When I have to serve them.”

“And?”

“They have nice hair, I suppose. It looks really soft,” Merlin supplied.

“I guess that’s the best I’ll get out of you.”

“‘Fraid so.”

Merlin put the plate beside him on the bed and folded his hands in his lap. It was nice, being here, talking to Will, but he didn’t want to talk about Camelot. Talking about Camelot made his chest ache.

“How long do you plan on staying?” Will asked when it was apparent Merlin meant to say no more.

“Only two or three days. I can’t linger here too long.”

“Then we should make the most of them. Want to go to the tavern tonight after Matthew’s?”

“No!” Merlin didn’t mean to shout. He didn’t mean for his breath to start coming in short, quick bursts either.

Will put a hand on his shoulder. “Okay. We don’t have to. Now that I think about it, that wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience.” The anvil on Merlin’s chest had returned with a vengeance. “Merlin, mate, are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “I’m alright. Don’t know wh-what h-happened there.”

“I’ll get you some water.” Will stood up but Merlin stopped him.

“It’s fine. I’ve got some left.” He took his water pouch from his pack on the floor and took a healthy mouthful.

“Maybe you ought to get some rest. If Blake’s banging on the door doesn’t wake you when it’s time, I will.” He rubbed Merlin’s shoulder affectionately.

“Thanks, Will. I’m so glad I came here.”

“So am I, Merlin.”

Will got off the bed and took Merlin’s empty plate with him back to the table. Merlin took another sip and laid back, already feeling sweet sleep closing in on him.

Merlin’s breathing grew slow and heavy soon and Will walked over to make sure he was deep asleep. When he found that he was, he kneeled down and looked the hiding Arthur in the eye.

“You can come out now.”

Arthur grunted and slid out from under the bed. “Finally. I was starting to get a bit claustrophobic.”

“It was only an hour or so.”

“You try it then.” Will scrunched his nose. “That’s what I thought.”

Arthur brushed the dust off his clothes and turned to face his lover. He wanted so much to touch him, to feel his real-ness for himself, but he didn’t dare. Merlin really did look something terrible. Though he’d gotten a haircut a week before, it looked shaggy and messy from running through the forest and sleeping on the dirty ground. Even so, he looked every bit the handsome man that Arthur loved.

“He looks so peaceful,” Will interrupted Arthur’s longing stare. “And he seemed fine to me. Are you sure he’s changed?”

Arthur had a theory. Maybe since Merlin was back in nature, where he “belonged,” the animal inside of him no longer felt caged, and didn’t need to rebel and make its presence known. Maybe, just maybe, Merlin had calmed down.

“I’m sure,” Arthur said. “He does seem better, and maybe it _is_ because he’s not trapped in the walls of Camelot anymore, but either way, he’s still dangerous. He could still hurt me again. Or you.”

“Wait a minute. Do you mean to say he’s hurt you already?”

In all the three days waiting for Merlin, he hadn’t seen a single bruise or scratch that indicated abuse on Arthur’s body. But then, he’d only seen the king fully clothed.

Arthur frowned, not meaning to have given away that much information. He couldn’t take it back now. “I do.”

“And you’re still here, trying to bring him back?!” Will couldn’t understand it. “I don’t know whether to think you’re crazy or incredibly loyal.”

Arthur chuckled darkly. “Probably a little of both.” He looked Will in the eye meaningfully. “One day, you might understand. If you meet someone that you’d do anything for, no matter how bad or hurtful it is, if you love them so much that it’s painful, you’ll understand perfectly.”

“For my sake, I hope I never do.”

Arthur sighed, suddenly sad. “Sometimes I wish the same, that I’d never met him and doomed myself to be completely at his mercy. But then he does something, I don’t know, something mundane like keep my food warm with magic and not even tell me, and I know that, given the chance, I’d do it all again.”

“Aww,” Will said mockingly, “That’s probably the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Arthur punched him in the arm. “Shut up.” But he was laughing.

“Alright, alright. Now what are we gonna do?”

“I’ll wait until he gets back from Matthew’s, then I’ll talk to him,” Arthur replied. “He deserves some time to catch up with friends. As much as I hate to say it.”

***

For a boy with such small fists, Blake could certainly make some noise.

Merlin woke with a jolt and for a moment forgot where he was. Then Blake knocked a second time and he remembered.

He rubbed his eyes as he went to open the door, not caring enough to wonder where Will was.

“Merlin! Did I wake you?”

“Yeah.” Merlin’s voice was husky with sleep. He cleared his throat and continued. “But it’s okay. All set to go.”

“Uh, no you aren’t. You forgot the scarf. Remember?”

“Oh. Right. I hope I packed it...”

Merlin searched his pack and finally found it. His sleepy fingers were slow to tie a loose knot and secure the fabric over his neck.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Blake grinned and waved Merlin on to hurry up.

“Father was so happy when I told him,” Blake said as they walked down the path. “He wanted to come over right away but Mum stopped him. She said it must have been really tiring walking all that way and wanted you to get your rest.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her. As much as I missed Matthew, I really wasn’t in any shape to keep up a conversation with him. I could barely stay awake when I spoke with Will.” Merlin just then wondered where Will had gone off to anyway. “Where is Will by the way?”

Blake shrugged. “Dunno. He’s been acting weird lately. He stayed in his house nearly all day yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.” Blake paused to consider. “And maybe even the day before _that._ ”

“That is strange.”

“Will is strange.”

Merlin chuckled. “Yeah, I guess he sort of is.”

“You’re strange too,” Blake added. “But don’t worry. I think everyone is strange in their own way.”

“That’s oddly profound of you.”

The boy frowned. “Is profound a good thing?”

“It is. It’s a very good thing,” Merlin assured him.

They reached Matthew’s house and before they could even open the door, it opened for them. Rose appeared and greeted Merlin with a huge smile.

“Merlin!”

“Hi, Rose!”

“You’re wearing the scarf!”

“I sure am.”

Matthew came to the door and nudged Rose aside. “Sorry ‘bout that. She was watching from the window.”

“Hey, you were too!” They heard Rose say from farther inside.

Matthew blushed. “Come in, come in. Supper is on the table.”

***

Merlin was content for the first time in a while. After the meal he’d sat up with Blake, Rose, and Viv, talking with them about what they’d done while he was away. They were eager to hear some of his stories too and he told them what he could without lingering too much on anything Arthur-related, which was very little.

They were all happy that he was back, even if it was for only a couple of days. When it was time for Blake and Rose to go to bed, and Viv stayed behind to sit up with the adults, he noticed how much she’d changed in the past year. It was no wonder she didn’t want to keep company with kids so much younger than her.

“How’ve you been Vivian?” Merlin asked. “The children were talking so much I nearly forgot you were there.”

Vivian blushed at the sudden attention and twirled a piece of hair in her finger. “I’ve been fine. Rather bored, but fine.”

“Blake told me you don’t play with them anymore.”

She snorted derisively. “I’m twelve now. They play baby games.”

Matthew’s wife scolded her, even if Viv wasn’t her child to scold. “Now Vivian, it wasn’t too long ago that you loved playing those so-called ‘baby’ games. A few months doesn’t change a person completely.”

“Things are different now,” she replied softly, almost sadly. “Their games just don’t interest me anymore. Not when there’s so much else going on.”

Merlin listened attentively, eager to hear what she had to say. “What do you mean? What else is going on?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Lots of things.” She waved her hand wistfully. “The crop’s not doing well, and Myra had a miscarriage last week that really upset her, and we all live in these shitty homes—”

“Vivian!”

“Sorry. But it’s true.”

Merlin nodded sympathetically. He hadn’t had anything close to an upbringing such as Viv’s but it was a similar situation with him in Camelot. Moving to the city had opened his eyes to the harsh realities of the world and it was hard to find pleasure in trivial things when everything was so bleak and dismal. But he’d had Arthur to brighten him up.

No. Best not to follow that train of thought. He focused back on Vivian.

“I see where you’re coming from. But you can’t let a few bad events ruin everything for you. You’ve got to think about good things too,” he said.

Vivian smiled sheepishly. “You’re actually really smart, Merlin. I like hearing you speak now. You have a nice voice when it’s not tripping over words.”

Merlin laughed. “Thank you.”

She coloured even more at the sound of his loud laughter. He looked, _really_ looked at her, and saw she was staring at him a bit like the other women did the last time he was here. _Oh._ She really had grown up.

After that Matthew sent her home, claiming they’d never hear the end of it from her mother if they let her stay out so late, and the three of them stayed up till nearly midnight talking about more adult things.

Matthew’s wife chattered on about gossip. It was indeed true that Myra had had a miscarriage, but did either of them know that nobody was sure who the father was? Merlin was also informed that Old Man Simmons had died a few months after he left and Merlin expressed sympathy for the man he’d never had a chance to meet.

Now Merlin was staggering home, not quite tired yet but certainly getting there, when he decided he’d lay out beneath the stars for awhile. He walked past Will’s house into a field, took off his jacket and laid down on it. It was a new moon tonight and without the bright disk in the sky, the stars shone spectacularly.

It was the first time in years that he’d laid out like this. He’d slept in trees, at the foot of trees, in piles of leaves, but that was always in the forest, where the treetops blocked his view of the stars. He guessed the last time he slept out in the open like this was when he was about Viv’s age, maybe a couple years older.

He remembered begging his father to let him do it, too. Balinor didn’t like when Merlin slept outside the cave, let alone in an open field. But that one night, his father said yes, and just like now, he stared up at the stars feeling incredibly small and insignificant. He’d casted a flame in his palm to imitate the thousands of fires in the sky above him, and wondered if someone far away was looking back at it, marvelling at its beauty just as he was. When he’d woken up the next day, his two wolf mates were cuddled on either side of him, and he’d subconsciously snuggled up in their fur.

As Vivian had said, things were different now. It was the same sky, the same stars, but Merlin was not the same person. He’d been through so much in the last year alone and it hurt to compare the last time he’d slept under the stars to this one. Normal people didn’t have wolf mates, he knew that now. Normal people slept in beds, not on tree branches. Maybe everyone _was_ strange in their own way, but Merlin was extraordinarily so.

And wasn’t that why Merlin was leaving Camelot, besides the obvious bonus of not hurting Arthur? His differences didn’t mean anything when he was alone, in nature where he belonged.

He closed his eyes and was surprised when tears spilled out, trickling down his head and into his hair.

He heard footsteps approach then and swallowed the lump in his throat. The last thing he needed was to have a heart to heart with Will.

The footsteps ended right next to his and Merlin heard them sit down.

“Don’t know if I’m sleeping out here or not yet, Will,” he said without opening his eyes. “I’ll let you know in an hour or so.”

Will said nothing, just ruffled Merlin’s hair a bit.

“Oi, quit it,” Merlin complained good-naturedly. “I know my hair’s a right mess. Doesn’t mean you can mess it up even more.” He sighed and after a moment, continued softly. “Arthur used to do that a lot.” Will was still quiet, so Merlin kept going. “I kind of miss him. Alright, I don’t ‘kind of,’ I do. But like I told you he gave me a few days off and I’m not going to waste them. I just...sort of wish he could be here with me. As ridiculous as that sounds.”

Merlin yawned and stretched his arms above his head, then hit Will playfully in the shoulder. “Feel free to stop me any time now. I feel like I’m talking to myself here.”

Will chuckled and Merlin joined in a bit. “But seriously. I also kind of wish I could stay here. Everyone is so nice and it’s not nearly as terrible as living in a big city. Not that I don’t like Camelot,” Merlin added. “I do, I really do, but sometimes it’s just...I don’t know. Suffocating. At least out here there are wide open fields like this.”

Merlin sighed. “But I have to leave. Have to go back I mean. I fear if I stay too long everyone will get attached to me again and I’d hurt them even more. You were right earlier. I had no idea what my actions did to the people I care about. Even now I wonder what Arthur must be thinking. I wonder if he’s missing me as much as I’m missing him.”

Merlin laughed at the irony of the situation. Here he’d been hoping to avoid a heart to heart and that’s just what he’d ended up doing. He nudged Will again. “Say something, for fuck’s sake. You haven’t said a single word.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin’s eyes snapped open. That was _not_ Will.

“Arthur?” He sat up and started scrambling away backwards. “Wh-what are you doing here? How did you even know?” And then, in a moment of increased panic, “You were here the whole time just listening and you didn’t stop me?!”

Arthur was just barely distinguishable in the moonless night but Merlin would have known that form anywhere. And the hair. Despite the darkness, Arthur’s hair stuck out as golden as ever.

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing here?’ Of _course_ I’m here, Merlin.” He crawled over on hands and knees to where Merlin perched warily on the damp earth. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”

Merlin tried to back away again but Arthur stopped him with a hand. Arthur had never looked so fragile. Merlin was worried the slightest movement might break him.

“Arthur—”

“No, Merlin. You’re going to hear what I’ve got to say.” Merlin didn’t move and forced himself to listen. Arthur continued, “No matter what you may think right now, you belong with me. I haven’t been whole without you, Merlin. You must have felt the same at least a little bit.”

Merlin nodded reluctantly, admitting weakness.

“Do you remember your last night in Camelot?”

Merlin nodded once more. How could he forget? They’d danced and made love like never before.

“Then you remember that you almost lost it. But you didn’t. You _didn’t_ , Merlin.”

Merlin remembered. “You stopped it. When you—When you flipped me over.”

The night replayed clearly in his mind. He’d felt his control slipping and just as he must have been choking Arthur from thrusting so hard, the king had switched positions on him and tamed him into submission.

“Exactly. I think that’s the key, Merlin. You can’t do it on your own. You need me just as much as I need you.”

“So you think...that if we work together...?”

“Yes, Merlin. I’m sorry I’ve only just now realised it,” Arthur said with apologetic eyes that shone in the starlight. “It was wrong of me to put all of the responsibility on you. It was my fault as well. I didn’t do anything. Just like that night...I didn’t do anything to stop you. I didn’t even put up a fight.”

Merlin swallowed hard. “That wasn’t your fault, Arthur.”

“Either way, I promise things will be different from now on. We’ll get through this together.”

The words echoed in Merlin’s head, the same words that Arthur had said on the first day of the celebration in the empty corridor. Though the words were the same, they had an entirely different meaning now, the promise of hope and good things to come.

But still, Merlin didn’t say anything, just sat leaning back on his hands, staring up into Arthur’s bright eyes.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered against his lips. “You should have seen the knights begging to come with me. It’s not just me. Everyone misses you.”

“Don’t try to guilt me into—”

“I’m not. I’m only saying that you undervalue your importance. You think that by leaving you’ve done the right thing. You wanted me to forget, but I can’t. Nobody can forget you, Merlin. Camelot, once changed, is changed for good.”

Merlin didn’t reply but Arthur could see the answer in his eyes. Though the warlock himself didn’t know it yet, he was coming back home with his king.

Arthur moved the small distance forward to bring their lips together. It was chaste at first, Arthur not knowing if he’d made the right choice in closing the gap. Then Merlin brought his hand around Arthur’s neck and pulled him down to the ground so that his weight pressed down on him.

The kiss became desperate and needy. It’d only been about a week since they’d last seen each other, and though that week had passed quickly, it felt like an eternity. Merlin moved his hands to the globe of Arthur’s arse and encouraged the king to grind into him.

But Arthur was determined to do this properly, to make his  point. He pulled back and tugged on Merlin’s shirt.

“Off.”

The flash of memory of when they first did this came back to Merlin. That time he’d been lying on the cave floor, learning to kiss for the first time, when Arthur had grasped his shirt and said the same thing. He hurriedly untied his neckerchief and pulled his tunic over his head as Arthur followed suit.

From there it was a mess of limbs. Merlin was just coherent enough to insist on laying the clothes out beneath him so the prickly grass wouldn’t itch his skin. Then, naked in the cool midsummer night air, Merlin’s eyes glowed as he performed a bit of magic to prepare Arthur’s arse for his entry.

He flipped Arthur over and Arthur butterflied his legs, inviting Merlin inside. Merlin lined up his cock and gently, slowly, slid deep inside.

 _This_ was Merlin. This was the Merlin who cared about him, stroked his hair affectionately, and whispered loving things in his ear, not the uncontrollable creature that had taken him over a week ago. Arthur keened and urged Merlin to start moving, told him that it was okay, he wanted this, that he trusted him.

And Merlin complied. He pushed his hips forward slowly and languidly, focusing his gaze on the round O of Arthur’s delicate lips. Arthur’s heels dug into the back Merlin’s thighs, urging him to go faster, harder, without a single word having been uttered.

But he was still going too slow. Arthur could feel the man holding back, and pulled him down by the shoulders so that his cock was sandwiched between their sweating chests. He anchored his hands on Merlin’s waist, digging his fingernails into the soft flesh just below that was the start of Merlin’s plump arse.

That’s when the familiar growling and guttural noises began. Arthur’s heart raced in thrilling excitement as Merlin turned slowly from man to beast.

Merlin snarled in the king’s ear. “Arthur.”

It was a warning. Merlin felt himself slipping and was pleading with the last shred of humanity in him.

Immediately, Arthur grabbed Merlin’s shoulders and rolled them. He held Merlin’s wrists in each of his hands and pinned them above his head as he rode Merlin’s cock. It was different from this angle. He’d never sat on Merlin like this before, always let the manservant take him from behind or on his back. But he found he rather liked this position. It let him retain some control while also allowing Merlin to dominate him, as was evident by the quickness of Merlin’s thrusts into him.

The animalistic stare in Merlin’s eyes was fading, and Arthur helped it along with a kiss. It was deep and purposeful and Merlin moaned into it as he came back down to dance along the thin line of beast and man.

“Arthur.”

Arthur released his grip on Merlin’s wrists and let the man roll them over so he was on his back again. It became a game, to see how long Merlin could last until Arthur had to switch the positions, and soon they were both laughing breathlessly, wrestling for the top.

Merlin was smiling and and moaning Arthur’s name when he leaned over to bite lovingly into Arthur’s neck. With a little more pressure applied, Arthur came, and Merlin was close behind.

They stared up at the stars, chests dirty with come, and bliss settled over them like a shroud. Merlin found Arthur’s hand in the dark and intertwined their fingers. They stared long into each other’s eyes, happy, more than happy, and at the same time broke into smiles that only idiots in love could.

Then Merlin kissed Arthur lightly on the tip of his nose. “I want to go home.”

***

They spent another day in Ealdor, only because Merlin didn’t want to leave everyone without a proper goodbye and a promise to return as soon as he was able. Will wasn’t at all surprised that he and Arthur had gotten back together; they really were perfect for each other and it was only a matter of time. Merlin was a bit upset at first upon learning of Will’s involvement, but he couldn’t be mad for long given the circumstances.

The night before Merlin was to leave, Arthur snuck out to the forest. It was a wonder that nobody had commented on the mysterious horse behind Will’s house, and even more of a wonder that Merlin hadn’t noticed it himself, but granted, he _had_ been rather wrapped up in his thoughts.

Merlin found that he really liked sex outside, and wondered why they’d never tried it before. It was perfect, hearing the soft rustlings of animals, smelling the sweet earth beneath them, and feeling the light breeze that tickled their damp skin. He sincerely hoped they’d be able to do it again when they returned to Camelot.

Merlin rode in front of Arthur in the saddle, and sometimes Arthur even let him take the reins in favour of wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Merlin could tell his leaving had really upset Arthur, but he’d never know the true extent of it. Arthur squeezed Merlin’s body against him and breathed in the earthy smell, never wanting to be without it again.

And it was in that position that they rode into the city, Merlin tense and unsure, but strangely proud.

Some citizens glanced up at them, turning their head quickly in case they were caught staring. Others watched shamelessly as they rode through the street up to the castle gates. Still others paid no attention at all, as if it was any other day.

“Don’t run anyone over, Merlin.” Arthur warned.

Merlin snorted. Already with the friendly insults and banter? “I’ve known how to ride for months now, sire.”

“Yes, but there’s always room for improvement.” Suddenly Arthur’s mouth was close to his ear, breathing hot and wet into it. “Someday I’ll teach you how to ride properly.”

The promise sent a shiver of excitement down to Merlin’s crotch and Arthur laughed at the blush that flamed up Merlin’s neck and into his cheeks. Merlin elbowed him in the side but Arthur continued.

When they finally reached the castle steps, a crowd of knights came out to meet them. They circled so tightly around the horse that neither had room to dismount.

Leon, second in command over the group, noticed the issue and ordered them to give way for the king.

Arthur nodded appreciatively and they got off the horse, only to be taken into the eager crowd with force. Gwaine smiled as he took the reins from Arthur and led the horse away to the stable.

“Welcome back, Merlin.”

“Great to see you, Merlin.”

“Merlin! You’re home!”

Arthur said indignantly, “Oi, your king is back too you know!” But he was laughing with pleasure. It was great to see his knights welcome Merlin back with open arms.

“Welcome back, sire,” they chorused and went back to fawning over Merlin.

Merlin smiled like a dumbstruck idiot and was surprised at the happiness in everyone’s eyes. Arthur hadn’t been exaggerating; they all really missed him.

“Alright, alright,” Arthur pushed their way out of the circle and stood off to the side, where he held Merlin’s hand tightly. “It’s been a long journey and Merlin needs a rest. You’ll all get to see him again at supper tonight.”

They walked to Gaius’s chambers and Merlin gave Arthur’s hand a thankful squeeze. He’d remembered that Merlin didn’t do well among so many people at close proximity and had made the effort to get him out of there once they’d had their proper welcomes.

Gaius’s door was unlocked and the man nearly had a heart attack when they walked in.

“Merlin!” He came to meet them halfway as fast as his old legs would allow and caught the boy in an embrace. “Don’t ever do something so stupid again, Merlin.” Gaius chastised.

Merlin chuckled. “I promise, I won’t.”

“Good.” Gaius released him and gave him back to Arthur. “You nearly killed our king.”

Arthur coughed. “Uh, Gaius, I don’t think he really needs to know—”

“Know what?” Merlin turned around, curious.

“Nothing, nothing.” Arthur glared at the physician, who only smiled. Merlin was _definitely_ not going to know just how bad off he’d left Arthur.

“Well, it’s good to have you back, Merlin,” Gaius said instead.

“It’s good to be back,” Merlin replied, and he meant it.

***

Merlin slept in his own bed that night at Arthur’s insistence. He wouldn’t tell him why, only that it was very important and to trust his judgement.

When he woke the next day, it was already mid-morning, and as he stretched his limbs he noticed a note on his chest.

_Meet me in the throne room._

It was in Dragon Tongue, and Arthur’s hand. Merlin dressed quickly and ran through the strangely empty corridors to the appointed place.

He wasn’t ready for what he saw when he opened the doors.

Everyone was there. All the servants, all the knights, and a good amount of Camelot’s upper class, as much as could comfortably sit in the large hall. Sitting on the throne, high and in front of all of them, was Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot.

Merlin swallowed. Everyone stood and turned to face him, applauding his entrance. He glanced behind him, but he was the only one in the doorway.

“Come here, Merlin.”

It was just like all the other times Arthur had said it, low and full of want, but this time it echoed throughout the room as a command, and in front of all these people.

Merlin walked down the aisle with as composed a face as he could manage. His strides were long and purposeful, and his hands barely shook.

He’d seen enough knighting ceremonies to know he was meant to kneel before the king when he reached him. He did so and stared up at Arthur with the deepest love in his eyes.

“Merlin, you have been deemed fit for this high estate by your peers, and have indicated your willingness to accept this honour from my hands. Do you now swear by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy that you will honour and defend the Crown and kingdom of Camelot?”

“I will.”

“That you will honour, defend, and protect all ladies, and those weaker than yourself?”

“I will.”

“That you will be courteous and honour your peers?”

“I will.”

“That you will conduct yourself in all matters as befits a peer, using your magic only for just cause? That you will enshrine in your heart the noble ideals of chivalry to the benefit of your own good name and the greater glory of Camelot?”

Merlin blinked. Had he heard right? Did Arthur really just out him as a warlock in front of all these people?

Regardless, he said, “I will.”

Gwaine came forth holding a red pillow and Arthur gently took its inhabitant out of its place. It was a silver circlet that shone like a full moon on a spring night, with glistening emeralds cut into it. Arthur placed this circlet upon Merlin’s head proudly and reached for his sword from Leon on the other side of him.

“Then having sworn these solemn oaths, know now that I, Arthur Pendragon, by right of arms, king of Camelot, do dub you with my sword, Excalibur, and by all that you hold sacred, true, and holy...once for honour...twice for duty...thrice for chivalry...Arise, Merlin, Court Sorcerer.”

All in attendance clapped again and Merlin, teary-eyed, rose to his feet when Arthur’s hands rested on his shoulders. Arthur brought him up to stand beside him and raised their entwined hands high above their heads. Then, after half a minute, Arthur lowered their arms and raised his other to cradle Merlin’s face as he pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss.

There was a stutter in the applause, but when the knights cheered loudly with shouts and whistles, it returned to full volume. Some of the servants even joined in, glad to finally let their knowledge of the situation be known.

Merlin, needless to say, was more surprised than anyone. He held Arthur’s face in both of his own hands and kissed back deeply, not holding back. Arthur laughed breathlessly when they lost track of time and pulled away, kissing Merlin softly one last time with a quick swipe of his tongue on Merlin’s bottom lip, a promise of more to come.

They held hands there on the steps leading to the throne, and Merlin was infinitely happy. He could ask for nothing more. He had magic, he had Arthur, and he had the forest, which would always be just outside the castle walls waiting for him.

Arthur stroked the back of Merlin’s hand with his thumb. And Merlin purred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this has been quite an adventure. [Here is a mix](http://neuroticnick.livejournal.com/16553.html) I made for this fic, full of songs that are sometimes so appropriate it's scary. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did :)


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